First Quarter Quell
by Taylor1103
Summary: Seventeen year old Castilla Shan is forced to face so much more than she ever imagined when it's the Districts' vote on who is to enter the arena for the First Quarter Quell. (Rated T for language and violence)
1. Quarter Quell Twist

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games!**

 **AN: I've had this character in my head for awhile now, and I've finally gotten around to writing her story. I know my writing isn't the best, and I do work hard at proof reading my chapters before putting them out. But things still slip by. I hope you enjoy the story anyway, please let me know what you think!**

* * *

"It has been twenty five years since the districts' defeat by The Capitol. For such an important anniversary we shall be holding a Quarter Quell, and these shall be held every twenty five years. For the very first Quarter Quell, as a reminder to the rebels that they are responsible for the Hunger Games, and it is their children that die in the Hunger Games each year, it is up to the districts citizens to vote for who is to compete in the Hunger Games this year."

President Azen continued to speak more up on the large screen in the District Square , but my head started buzzing at this news and I couldn't hear anything else he said. I peeled my eyes away from the TV and forced myself to look at my younger brother. He had tears forming in his eyes, because he knew what I knew; it was very likely I'd be voted into the games.

Suddenly the crowd around us felt like it was closing in on me and I couldn't breathe. I knew, deep in my mind, that everyone wasn't staring at me, wasn't judging me, but I couldn't help but feel like they were.

I grabbed Ulric's hand and pulled him through the crowd, pushing and shoving people as I went because I didn't care. I didn't care if they got mad at me and I didn't care if they hated me for it. They already did anyway.

This would be the perfect opportunity for the citizens of District Six to get rid of me. Why wouldn't they? Why would they vote to send some poor kid who never breaks any rules into the games over someone like me who cheats, lies, and steals? After my public lashing last year everyone saw me as nothing but scum. No one felt bad for me, their worried looks and fear struck faces as the peacekeeper brought down his whip onto my back didn't fool me. I was caught stealing food right out of their homes; I was a thief.

Or at least they thought I was. So I let them believe it. If people wanted to point at me on the streets and say "That's Castilla Shan, the girl that stole straight from our homes" then I might as well live up to their expectations of me. Rather it was true or not.

I pulled Ulric all the way home, he sniffled and wiped his nose the whole way but managed not to cry until we were inside. Once through the doors of our home he wrapped his little eight year old arms around me and started crying. I held him close and tightly. I was going to lose him... no it was worse than that, he was going to lose me. Finally I let go of him and pushed him away gently at arms length and knelled down so we were the same height.

"Listen to me, Ulric, alright? Wipe away those tears, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure I'm not picked this year. But since the odds are against me, I'm going to go do something I never said I'd do. I'm going to go get tessersa. One for each of us. Me, you, mom, and grandpa. That way if I am picked, all of you have food for a year, alright?"

Grandpa heard us talking and called from the bedroom just then, "Castilla? Ulric? Is that you two?"

"Yes grandpa," I called down the hallway, "I'll be right in." I turned back to Ulric. "Go wash up, and then after I help grandpa eat his lunch I'll come play a game of cards with you."

Ulric nodded and went down the hallway to the bathroom. I stood in the silence and closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. My whole body started to shake from a mix of emotions. Anger, fear, sadness. It was all too overwhelming. I opened my eyes and pushed the vote out of my mind and turned to the task at hand. Grandpa's meal. I opened the old small refrigerator I salvaged the parts for years ago and pulled out what was left of the vegetable soup mom made last night. I started up the gas stove, taking a mental note of how long I was using so not to use the rest of our gas, and quickly heated the soup to a manageable temperature. It wouldn't be the warmest soup in the world, but I knew grandpa wouldn't complain.

I took the soup, along with a glass of water, and walked down the hall to the door at the very end, Grandpa's bedroom. Grandpa was laying in bed, like he always was, looking up at the ceiling. He smiled when he heard me enter.

"Hey Grandpa," I said kindly as I set his soup down on his bedside table. "I'm going to help you sit up, now, alright?"

He nodded and I lift him forward while putting the extra pillows we keep beside his bed behind his back. He thanked me and tried to reach for the soup himself, but he and I both knew he won't be able to get it. Four years ago grandpa became completely paralyzed from the waste down, and partially paralyzed from the waste up, after he fell down a flight of stairs at work. That's when I started stealing. That's when I fell into the wrong crowd. That's why I got the lashings.

I took in shaky breathe, the memories coming back to me.

"Is everything alright, babygirl?" Grandpa asked.

"Fine, Grandpa. Just thinking too much." I spoon feed him another bite of his soup.

After he swallowed the mildly warm soup he smiled at me, "You need to stop doing that. Relax, don't let the reaping worry you so much."

"It's different this year," I explained, "they are adding new rules because it's a Quarter Quell."

"Ahhh, yes. I remember the rumors going around about those. Every twenty-five years. I can't believe it's been twenty five years already. How have things changed?"

I pushed a green-bean around in the bowl with the spoon and watched it twirl around. Grandpa gently reached out and almost touched my hand before he's forced to stop. I smiled weakly and moved my hand forward so he could set his fingers onto my hand for comfort.

"What is it?" He asked gently.

"Everyone is voting this year," I said quietly, "there is no reaping. It's a vote. All those years I didn't take tessera because it was too risky was a waste. I should have just taken it, gotten us the food that way. Because the way I was getting food before..." I broke off. I was stupid then. I was desperate. "... everyone here hates me. They'll vote for me."

Grandpa's eyes sadden, "Everyone knows you have a family." He was trying to reassure me, I knew it, but it wouldn't work.

"Everyone has families grandpa, that's never stopped kids from getting reaped before. I'm no different. People know I'm a thief, people know-"

"You stop there," Grandpa said, "from what you've told me, you didn't deserve those lashing."

I shrugged, "Maybe I did."

I knew if grandpa could have popped my hand for saying that he would have. Instead he slowly and painfully pulled it away from me.

"Here, finish eating. I told Ulric I'd play a game with him when he finished cleaning up."

Grandpa finished his lunch in silence, once he was done he asked to keep sitting up for awhile and I helped him get his hands positioned on his book so it'd be easy for him to turn the pages. I left the room and quickly cleaned the bowl and spoon in the sink before heading back down the hall to the bedroom Ulric and I shared.

Ulric's bed was shoved against the wall behind the door, so I closed the door behind me so he'd be visible sitting up in the corner. He had a blanket wrapped around him and he was hugging his knees with one hand while sorting cards with the other. I climbed onto the bed with him and silently helped him sort the cards.

"I'm going to everything I can not to get voted in," I finally said.

"It won't work," he mumbled, his chin on one knee.

I finished sorting my cards, letting another silence fall over the room. I shuffled up my cards again while I tried to think how to break the news to Ulric. He was young, yet he had to grow up so fast.

I finally just blurted the news out, "I'm going to go talk to Axl.''

Ulric gasped and his eyes widened as he looked up at me, "Cas, no!"

"It can't hurt anything," I said.

"Axl is evil, Cas!"

I chuckled a little, "I wouldn't say evil, kiddo. He's just the world's biggest jackass."

"Grandpa says jackass is a mean word."

"Not when you're calling someone who really is one that," I explained.

"I still don't think you should say it," Ulric sighed.

"Alright, I won't. I'll just call Axl evil then."

Ulric smiled and went back to sorting his cards. I look down at them and smiled. It was a silly game, an easy kids game, but he loved it. I place my diamond two under my diamond ace then start searching for the diamond three.

* * *

Later that evening mom returned home from work. Mom worked at a factory that made wheels. It wasn't a glamorous job, and it didn't pay nearly as much as it should, but we were thankful someone was still willing to hire her after the bad name I put on my family.

She threw her jacket on the armchair and turned to me, a mix of emotions in her face.

"You heard," I said.

"Of course I heard!" Mom snapped, "they made us watch the broadcast at work. Then I had to spend the rest of the day looking over my shoulder only to find people staring at me."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Cas. I just hope you finally realize why I've been so angry at you for all these years. I told you over and over _not_ to get mixed up with that crowd and I told you a year ago to stop provoking people! Yet you continued too."

"Everyone sees me as a liar and a theif! There is nothing I can do to change that, mom. I'm sorry. And I had no way of knowing the district was going to vote this year!"

"Have you thought about your Grandfather? I can't leave my job. What is he to do during the day with no one here to help him? Have you even thought about your brother? He can't walk to and from school by himself."

I gritted my teeth, "Of course I've thought about him. How could you even ask that?"

"He's losing his sister you know, despite everything you've done he looks up to you."

"Stop," I said. My voice was even, because if I didn't keep myself emotionless I'd be screaming.

"I was hoping you could get another job soon, go around and ask again, apologize to everyone. But that won't be happening now. You'll be dead and you're brother will be starving back here -"

"Stop!" I screamed. "Just stop." I gritted my teeth again and held the back of the armchair tightly. How dare she. How dare she bring Ulric into this. How dare she say he's going to starve without me here. She was his mother, not me! Nothing was stopping her from going out and getting a second job so she could feed her child.

Mom looked at me like I slapped her. I half wished I had.

I brought my voice back down to an normal volume. "Don't ever speak about Ulric dying again. Speak badly about me all you want, but not him." I turned and left then, because I couldn't stand her talking like that. I should have just went to my bedroom, but instead I burst through the front door and down the rocky street. The sun was setting and the sky was orange, any other time I would have taken in the beauty of it, because all the factories were shut down that time of night and the smog wasn't filling the air, but I was too angry to really notice just how beautiful it was.

It was chilly, and I wrapped my arms around myself to try and stay warm. I didn't bring a coat and I only had on a thin long sleeve shirt. A slight wind cut through me, but I didn't stop walking. I turned left down the street that leads away from the large cluster of houses I lived at and down toward the large river. District Six's River wasn't a real river, it was a giant concrete river, with with a large concrete wall stretched all the way down one side. Water gushed out of large pipes in the wall and down into the river.

In school I had seen in books and videos images of real rivers; ones with dirt, sand, rocks, grass, weeds, flowers. They're colorful and bright. District Six's river was grey and dull. The water was loud as it rushed from the pipes and down into the flowing water.

I sat down carefully near the edge, just far enough away so small sprays of water wouldn't splashed up onto me.

My whole body was shaking, and I came to realize it was half from the cold of the windy evening and half from anger. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I suddenly realized I wouldn't be getting dinner, not after storming out like that. Mom won't even bother making me food.

The sun set behind me and a couple lights flickered on around the river, but I was mostly plunged into darkness within thirty minutes of sitting by the river.

I gently rocked back and forth absentmindedly and start speaking out loud to myself, wallowing in my own self pity. "I acted like I didn't care. I let them all blame me. I put this on myself. I'm going to have to go into the Hunger Games. I'm going to die."

Loud high pitched laughter erupted somewhere to my left, making me jump from fright. I turned quickly but didn't see anyone, but I heard a couple girls laughing again and some boys shouting over the loud roar of the water. I realized almost instantly they didn't notice me. I stayed where I was, if they stumbled upon me so be it. But it was probably just some kids from school out having fun on a Friday night. They were probably celebrating that it was very very unlikely they'd be picked for the Hunger Games this year.

If they stumbled across me they'd just murmur to each other and act like they didn't want me to hear the awful things they were saying about me even though they really did. They'd whisper behind their hands and giggle and glance over at me and make me feel like I was left out of some big joke. A joke where I was the punch line.

I hugged my knees tighter and tried to ignore the fun screams and laughs from the group somewhere up the river from me. But I couldn't help listen to them and wonder who it was. I couldn't help thinking that maybe if I had made different choices all those years ago maybe I'd be with them right now having a good time and joking about some other poor teenager who made poor life choices and sealed their fate.

Instead of picking good friends, I picked people like Viktor and Irisa and Axl. I picked friends who pushed me into making all the wrong choices. I picked friends who wouldn't be there for me when things turned to shit. I picked friends who had no problem putting all the blame on me. I picked friends who didn't even care about me at all, I was just someone for them to use and toss aside.

But tomorrow I would go talk to them, I would confront them and try to set things right.

It wasn't until my teeth were shattering from the cold that I finally made myself stand up and walk home. It was late, very late. Ulric would already be asleep, so I'd have to sneak quietly into bed so not to wake him. I reached the house and was happy to see someone left on our front light. It was flickering and moths were fluttering around it but it made it easier for me to put my house key in the old rusted lock. I pushed the creaking door open and closed it behind me, making sure to re-lock it and to turn off the light. I decided to check the small refrigerator for any extra food. Nothing. I checked the cabinets and found a couple bananas. I quickly ate one, leaving the other for Ulric's breakfast tomorrow, then went quietly to my bedroom. I slipped out of my clothes and into something more comfortable in complete darkness so Ulric could remain asleep.

I crawled into bed and sighed to myself. I wasn't looking forward to paying Axl a visit tomorrow. I wasn't looking forward to trudging up all those old memories and feelings, but I had too.

Tomorrow would be a long day.


	2. Axl Wallace

Mom didn't work on Saturdays, it was her one day off for the week. So I've always been free of the house for the entire day. But I hadn't left much in the past year. I'd spend Saturdays playing card games with Ulric or reading a book, because one thing my house had enough of was books. Grandpa loved books, and said he had been collecting them long before the rebellion started. He was lucky to be able to salvage so many of them twenty five years ago.

This Saturday wouldn't be like my old Saturdays use to be, I use to spend my Saturdays with Axl, and sometimes Viktor or Irisa if they weren't off doing morphling for the weekend. Morphling is one thing I never cared to try, despite the heavy use of it around the District. Axl felt the same, he drank alcohol some, but never did morphling. That might have been why I liked him so much. He was always up to no good, but he never crossed that line because he saw how it destroyed his father.

I admired him for that.

I hated him now. I didn't admire anything about him. He was a coward, a jackass... evil, as Ulric would put it. But despite all this, I had to go see him and speak to him for the first time in almost a year.

The sun was barley up, and there was still a breeze, so I put on my dark green jacket and laced up my brown boots before heading out the front door. The street was busy with kids and teenagers enjoying their day off school. I got a few glances as I went up the street, and eventually I pulled my hood up to hide my face. I turned down the back alley between two welding factories, both up and running and making so much noise I couldn't hear myself think.

Past the factories I jogged up the short flight of stairs to the town square. The video from yesterday about the Quarter Quell was repeating, some people still stood around watching it, discussing it amongst themselves. I paused for a moment, it was a part of the video I hadn't heard yesterday.

"Voting will last for three days, and within that time everyone nineteen and older is to report to the Justice Building to cast their ballot, failure to report and vote will be punishable by death. Voting will start on Monday at eleven AM and end on Wednesday at six PM."

I turned from the screen and kept walking toward Axl's home. Axl lived in a large concrete building with six floors that housed over sixty families. I pushed open the main front doors to the apartments and started up the stairs to the fourth floor. Just climbing the stairs felt surreal, I had promised myself I'd never come back here; but here I was, my hand catching on bits the chipped black railing, my eyes adjusting to the lights on the wall flickering, my heart racing at the thought of seeing Axl again.

I stopped at the door with a big number 4 painted in blue. The door was covered in graffiti, someone long ago had written curse words all around the number, and there were crude pictures of stick figures in the center of the four. Random names were scribbled all over the door, some of them even carved roughly into the metal. I sucked in a deep breath and reached out and touched near the top of the door. A picture of a peacekeepers car on fire was drawn there now, but a year ago it had been my and Axl's names.

I pulled my hand away from the drawing and pushed the door open. A couple kids, no older than four or five, sat in the hallway with marbles. I stepped over them carefully and walked down the hall towards Axl's apartment. I clinched my fist tightly and slowly knocked on the door. Everything suddenly felt weird. My head was buzzing and black dots filled my vision. My entire body felt heavy.

I sucked in a deep breath and realized I had forgotten to breathe before. My head stopped buzzing and my head cleared right as the door opened.

"Shit." Axl stepped back hastily from the open door frame, but he didn't move fast enough. Next thing I knew there was a splitting feelings in my knuckles and Axl was cupping his nose in one hand.

The two kids in the hallway shouted with excitement at my sudden outburst of violence. I nursed my hand and glanced over at them. They watched eagerly, waiting for me to punch Axl again. Great, they'd run off and tell their parents what they saw, and fighting would be added to my resume of bad deeds; just another reason for everyone to vote for me this week.

I turned back to Axl, who raised one hand in defense while taking another step back.

"Relax," I said, stepping into the apartment and slamming to door closed behind me. I turned back to Axl, who looked very rough, the blood running into his hands from his nose down onto his chin wasn't helping his tired features any. We stared at each other for a long moment, letting a heavy awkwardness fill the room. Finally he crossed the small room to the sink and started to wash his face and hands.

I hovered by the doorway, suddenly wishing I hadn't come here. The apartment was a mess, empty liquor bottles sat all around, piles of dirty clothes covered the bed, which was pulled out from the couch, a few gnats and some flies swarmed around some plates and silverware in the sink.

"What happened to you?" I asked, my eyes still scanning the apartment.

"What happened to me?" Axl asked in disbelief, like I was joking.

I finally looked at him, he was standing a safe distance away, holding a rag to his still bleeding nose. It was probably broken and I couldn't help but grin a little at the thought of it.

"Why are you here?" He finally asked.

"I wanted to talk about the reaping."

"Or lack of," he scoffed.

"That," I replied, finally stepping farther into the apartment. It was hot in the apartment, and I considered taking my jacket off, but I didn't want Axl to think I was staying any longer than necessary. "You and I both know it's likely I'll be voted into the games."

Something flashed across Axl's face, if I hadn't known better I would have thought it was guilt. He tossed the rag aside and shrugged; "And?"

"And I can't go. I can't leave my grandpa or my brother. I need you to tell _everyone_ what really happened."

"Why would I?" Axl asked. I clinched my fist. "God don't punch me again."

"You deserve it," I slurred. But I relaxed my fist. "Axl, please. Trust me it's just as hard for me to ask as it is for you to do it. Just tell people what really happened."

"This is my last year in the running to be reaped, I'm not about to go out and publicity tell anyone anything. I just got my ticket out, people feel bad for me right now, I don't think that many people would vote for me."

"And why do people feel bad for you?" I snapped.

Axl looked at me like I was insane. "Because my dad died just three days ago, damn Cas you could show some sort of sympathy."

I hadn't known Axl's dad died. Axl could tell from the confused look on my face.

"You didn't know," he chuckled, "Of course you didn't know. He started hallucinating after taking some pills, morphling, maybe something else too, I don't know for sure; but someone called for a peacekeeper because he was going up and down the hall banging on doors freakin' a bunch of people out. When the Peacekeeper got here dad pulled out a pocket knife and tried stabbing him, so he was shot. He died just up the hallway. You really hadn't heard?"

"No," I said. Truth was, I wasn't feeling any sympathy for Axl. Everyone knew he's dad would do something crazy eventually, Axl included. I would dare to say Axl doesn't even care his dad is dead, it's just a way to get some sympathy points from everyone. "I've gotten really good at tuning out all the bullshit people say."

Axl laughed a little and shook his head. He grinned at me, "I guess I don't have to lie to you about how upset I am he's dead, huh?"

"You've been counting the days since you were thirteen."

"Yeah, well, that's when I realized what a jackass he was."

"I also remember you saying you'd never turn out like him, yet here you are, a jackass."

Axl chuckled and grinned at me again, "Guess I deserve that. But hey listen, I'll try to put in some good words for you at work, alright?"

"Don't lie to me," I said. Axl had shrugged his left shoulder when he said that, he always shrugged his left shoulder when he was telling a casual lie. "I was dumb to come here and ask for your help, you never cared to help me, not then and not now. You and I both know who stole that food, I should have known if you wouldn't tell the truth when I was being publicly lashed you wouldn't tell the truth now that it's your life on the line."

I turned to leave and Axl moved forward and grabbed my arm, I pulled it away quickly and glared at him.

"I told you not to take it back, it's on you that you got caught with it, not me," he said.

"I told you not to steal it in the first place, those families had kids Axl, kids younger than Ulric. It wasn't our food to take, I had to take it back."

"And it was you the peacekeeper caught, it was you holding the bag when you were dragged into the square. What was I suppose to do?"

"Tell the truth!" I shrieked.

"I would have if you hadn't tried to throw me under the bus when you got caught. That was a really low thing to do, Cas."

"Low? _Me?_ Low? No, what was low was not admitting _you_ stole the food before the whip came down on my back for the _third_ time. You shouldn't have let it go that long and I wouldn't have had to say your name." I hadn't realized I had stepped forward, but I was at Axl now, my finger jammed hard into his chest to make a point.

"If things had been the other way, and it was me getting whipped, you wouldn't have stepped forward either," Axl said, stepping just a half a step closer to get in my face.

"Roles would have never been reversed," I spat back, not backing down.

Within a second Axl was kissing me. It had taken me by surprise, and I had froze for a moment, but then I pushed him away from me. Hard. He fell backwards and hit the ground. I was at the door quickly, not even caring if he was hurt or not. I was halfway out the door when Axl called to me.

"You should wear that pink dress," he said.

Against my better judgement I stopped and turned around. "What?" I asked.

"You should wear that pink dress," Axl said again while getting back up to his feet, "the one with the white collar. You should wear it on Friday. You'll want to look nice for the Capitol when you're standing up on the stage."


	3. Preparations

Ulric and I walked to school Monday morning. We avoided the street that always had early morning beggars. They were one reason Ulric couldn't walk to school by himself. There was always someone on the way who sat on the side of the road and called out to you over and over determined to get your attention and money; and they'd reach out and try to grab the legs of kids to get them to stop. They knew the kids were going to school and probably had some sort of food on them for lunch, even if it was just a small bag of grapes.

Most of the beggars were homeless, and some days I did feel bad for them. Some of them were starving, nothing but skin and bones; but truth was everyone was struggling, and I didn't have the luxury of handing over food, mainly because I gave the bread I would have eaten for lunch to Ulric and simply skipped the meal.

The school was opposite of the Justice Building at the town square. Some kids sat around the square, either catching up before school or swapping homework answers. Ulric and I went straight inside and I walked him to his class. He hugged me goodbye then hurried off to talk to his friends.

I leaned in the doorway and smiled as I watched him put away his bag and chat merrily with his friends. Sometimes I forgot he was only eight. Ulric was dealt a bad hand early in life. Our father died when Ulric was just a baby, no older than ten months old. Ulric never knew dad, he'd never remember sitting around the fire on chilly nights while I sat in dad's lap and he lay in his cradle. Dad would read us books. I was nine then, just a innocent kid. When I was nine I didn't fully grasp just how bad off my family was. I didn't realize Grandpa worked himself to death day in and day out building frames for trains only to bring home enough money to keep our power running. I didn't realize dad spent his day moving barrels of mechanical oil by hand just so we could have a measly meal of rice and beans. I didn't know mom was skipping meals so I could have seconds. I didn't know anything back then.

A kid pushed his way past me in the door way; drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry," I muttered as I moved out of his parents way. His mother stared at me as she passed by, she even paused a moment to take in my face, then she turned away quickly without saying a word. I frowned, I was used to getting looks, I was used to people glancing at me, but this was the most blatantly obvious anyone had ever been about it.

I quickly left and climbed the busy stairs up to the third floor where my classroom was. I went to my seat near the back and dropped my bag beside me. I was by the window, which I liked, but I was one row up from the last. That wasn't ideal because there was still one person behind me, but people were protective of their seats, so no one dared try to sit in someone else's seat.

The classroom filled quickly, and as it did I tried to keep my eyes diverted from the door, but with every new voice that carried in I couldn't help but glance up at it, and every time there'd be someone else stealing quick glances at me before turning to a friend and whispering behind their hand.

My stomach started hurting, but I knew it was from the dread of the days ahead.

The boy who sat behind me, Jericho Wreck, came into the class just moments before the bell. He slumped into his seat, making his whole desk push forward and slam into my seat. I was pushed forward roughly.

I turned to him to give him a sharp glare, to let him know I didn't appreciate what he had just done, but I was greeted with a grin.

"Sorry 'bout that," Jericho said.

"Don't worry about it," I said. I turned back toward the front and my teacher was already writing a math problem on the board. I reached down into my bag to get my notebook and pencil, but before I reached my bag Jericho stuck out one of his long legs and kicked my bag forward.

I glared up at him, and he was still smiling at me. "Whoops," he laughed.

I gritted my teeth and reached forward to retrieve my bag. I set it in my lap for safe keeping and dug out my materials. I started to write the problem down when something struck the back of my head.

I spun in my chair, furious this time. Those sitting around us had turned to look.

"What's your problem?" I hissed quietly.

Jericho spun a large grey eraser in his hand, a chunk of it was missing. "No problem."

I clamped my jaw tightly so I wouldn't say anything that would get me in trouble. I ignored the giggles and whispers of those around me and put all my focus in the math problem in front of me.

By time class was over Jericho had torn the eraser into six different pieces and bounced each one off the back of my head; so when the bell rang for lunch I was the first person out of my seat and headed toward the door. The talking in the room erupted immediately, but I barley heard any of it over the roaring in my ears as my heart pounded and my arms started to shake from anger.

A year ago, after I was reveled as a thief, this type of stuff used to happen. Other teenagers hated me, but why shouldn't they hate me? They thought I was the person who stole food right out of their cabinets. I would get shoved in the hallway, people would throw things at me, or someone would take my lunch and say they were simply taking back what was probably already theirs.

I walked down the stairs and out of the building. There was still three hours of school left, and sitting in there suddenly felt like a waste of time. Come Friday I'd never go to school again. I started toward the distribution building for tesserae, I pushed aside the blanket that acted as a door to find one lady sitting at a table. She looked up at me and offered a small smile.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"I had some questions about the tesserae," I told her as I approached the table. "Do I have to come each month to pick up the food, or can one of my family members get it for me?"

"The only reason we allow a family member to come pick up the food is if the child who claimed the tesserae is currently in the Hunger Games."

"And if I die before the year is up, will my family continue to get their food?"

"Yes, someone related to you could come pick up their portion of the food for the remainder of the year, but not your portion."

"Good, I want to take our four then." I stuck out my finger so she could identify me. She nodded and pricked my finger.

My blood scanned and the lady stared hard at the old small computer screen for a moment. She looked like she wanted to say something to me, but she put on a fake smile and said, "Ok, four tesserae. Let me get Gerry to help you."

Gerry was a large man, and I assumed he doubled as security so if anyone tried to steal the supplies. We entered a back room that was padlocked, the room was pilled high with bags of grain and bottles of oil sat stacked on shelves that covered the back wall. He handed me four bottles of oil and I put them into my schoolbag for safe keeping. He then handed me a sack of grain. I adjusted it in my arms and he set another on top, then another. My arms started to hurt from the weight of the small bags, but there was still one more to be stacked on top.

I suddenly realized I had to walk all the way home with all of these bags, and started thinking I should have waited for Ulric to get out of school, he could have carried one. I grumbled a thanks to Gerry and the lady at the desk as I kicked away the blanket at the door. Even though it was a longer walk back to my house I stuck to main roads that Peacekeepers roamed, that way no one would try to take my food from me.

I dropped the bags by the front door and let myself in with my key. I called down the hallway to Grandpa that way he knew it was me, then brought the food inside. I put the bottles of oil up in the cabinets and stacked the bags of grain by the small refrigerator.

Then I walked down the hall to Grandpa's room and knocked on the door. He called me inside.

"It's not time for school to be out yet, is it?" He asked me.

"Not yet," I said, taking a seat beside him. "I just didn't like all the looks I was getting. Everyone knows who their parents are going to vote for."

"You don't know for sure," Grandpa tried to reassure me.

"Just think, if I win the games, we could pay for your surgery. And if the surgery doesn't work I can at least get you a good wheelchair, and not one of those raggedy ones with squeaky wheels like Mr. Carmichael wheels himself around in, but one with the buttons so all you have to do is press them and move forward or backwards."

Grandpa chuckled and smiled up at me, "I'm happy to hear you're thinking on the bright side of things."

I shrugged, "Do you want an early lunch? I can fix you something, Ulric won't need walked back home for another two hours."

"I'm ok, you just go rest up," Grandpa told me.

I nodded and left the room. I went into my bedroom and pulled out the box of playing cards Ulric and I collected. Most of them were from mixed packs, and we'd lost several of them over the years. They were torn and bent and had rough edges from use, but I kept ten tucked away so they'd stay in good condition. I pulled out my ten and sat on the very end of my bed, I pulled my legs up and crossed them and dumped the cards into my lap. On the wall across from my bed there was an old block of styrofoam I had stolen from a packaging box at my old job.

I picked up one of the cards and threw it at the foam. The edge of the card stuck into the foam. I smiled to myself and threw another card, it stuck close to the first. On my third card I didn't have enough force, and the card fluttered to the ground. I cursed to myself and tried again. By time I used all ten cards I had only missed two. I smiled to myself and checked the time. Only fifteen minutes had gone by. I huffed, I was getting very bored.

An idea suddenly came to me and I leaped from my bed. I pulled all the cards out of the block of Styrofoam and tossed them onto my bed before ripping the foam off the wall. I walked to the kitchen and pulled out the smallest knives we had. I sat them all on the table then dug around in the side table by the couch for anything to hang the block back up with outside. I finally found a long screwdriver.

I took everything outside and walked around to the back of the house. The backyard was little, almost obsolete, but there was a large wooden power-pole between my house and the neighbors. I dropped all the knives and held the foam block up to the power-pole with my left hand. I held the screwdriver in my right then rammed it through the block with all my strength. By luck the screwdriver went all the way through the foam and splintered into the wood. I grinned to myself and picked up the knives again. They weren't ideal knives, I'd seen plenty of Hunger Games on TV to know which type of knives were in the games, and they weren't rusted kitchen knives. I turned and counted out ten steps from the power pool. When I turned back I realized just how far ten steps really was. I fiddled with the knife in my hand, holding playing cards was much easier.

Once I found a comfortable way to hold it without cutting my own wrist, I threw the knife as hard as I could. It was off, the weight bringing it down below the foam block. It clattered against the wooden post then fell to the ground. I picked up the next knife and tried again, making sure to aim up this time, but it was too far to the left, and zoomed past the pool landing in the dirt three feet away.

I sighed, and despite getting discouraged after only two tries, I picked up another knife. I put my energy into breathing and relaxing; I remembered how bad I was at throwing cards the first time I tried. All I needed to do then was relax. I flipped the knife around in my hand then threw it hard without hesitation. It hit the foam block. It didn't stick, because the handle hit the block not the blade, but at least I was on target now. I repeated this action, and again I hit the block only to have the knife bounce off to the left.

"Come on..." I said through gritted teeth as I picked up the last knife. "Come on. You can do this."

I fixed my stance and took two deep calming breaths before throwing the knife.

The knife soared through the air, turning over itself as it went. It curved downwards and hit the bottom of the target; the blade stuck sideways into the bottom edge of foam.

I breathed a sigh of relief, it hadn't been an exact hit, but at least it had hit the target.

I collected the knives and went inside to check the time on our old grandfather clock. School would let out in thirty minutes. I dropped the knives in the sink, called goodbye to Grandpa, then left to pick up Ulric from school.


	4. The Reaping

That week I stayed at the house; I only left to take Ulric to and from school. While at the house I practiced throwing the knives some more. I wasn't great at it. In fact I sucked. I only got the knives to stick into the foam one every ten or so times, but it felt good to be doing something that mimicked training.

I spent some time spinning my body around in wide circles and holding a large knife out like a sword. It felt weird and it felt silly. I couldn't fight, not like this. I felt like I was tripping over my own feet and bumping into things. I felt like a child playing, not someone training.

On Thursday there was a knock at the door, which confused me because no one ever visited.

I went to the kitchen window and pulled the faded curtains back just enough to see outside. The District Mayor, Mrs. Laine, stood with a Peacekeeper. My stomach dropped, it could only be bad news. I considered not answering for a moment, but knew they'd come back later when Mom was home if I didn't answer now. It was better to see what they wanted without Mom here. I dragged myself over to the door and opened it.

Mrs. Laine smiled down at me, "Ah, Castilla Shan, I'm so glad someone is home, it's my understanding that your Grandfather, Paul Whitaker, is bedridden, he does still reside at this current address, correct?"

"Yes," I answered, "what's this about?"

"I'm here so he can vote for this years Hunger Games Tributes. As I'm sure you know the voting ended yesterday afternoon and it's a requirement for everyone to vote, so I'm making sure those who were physically unable to make it too the polls the last three days have their chance to vote."

"Yes, um... let me make sure he's awake, I don't want you to startle him when you enter. Can I have a moment please?" I lied.

"Of course," Mrs. Laine smiled.

I stepped away from the door and gestured to the living room, "You're welcome to wait inside. I'll just be a minute." Mrs. Laine and the Peacekeeper stepped inside and I rushed down the hall to Grandpa's room, I knew he was awake, because I had helped him get sat up to read a book no more than thirty minutes ago, and Grandpa could read for hours on end. I put my finger to my lips as I slipped through the door and closed it quietly behind me.

Grandpa looked confused as I sat down beside him.

"Who's here?" Grandpa whispered to me.

"Mrs. Laine and a peacekeeper. They're here so you can vote for the tributes."

"Ah... I was hoping they'd forget about my vote..." Grandpa sighed, something very sad settled in his eyes.

"Grandpa, please don't vote for Axl, I know you don't like him, but please don't. I can't go with him, I can't."

"Stop talking like you are going to be picked," Grandpa said to me. I opened my mouth to protest but Grandpa stopped me, "Tell them they can come in, I'll make my vote."

"Not Axl, please," I pleaded one more time before standing up and leaving the room. I waited at the door a moment before walking back into the living room. "He's ready," I said to Mrs. Laine. She and the peacekeeper walked down the hall into Grandpa's room. I had to wait at the door, as all voting had to be done out of sight of those in the running.

"Thank you for you're cooperation," Mrs. Laine said to me as she was leaving.

"Yeah, sure," I mumble, practically ushering her out of the door. The moment the door closed I rushed back into Grandpa's room.

He chuckled, "I had to vote on one of those little computerized notebooks. There was a very long list to scroll through, I wanted to remind her that my hands don't work so well, but I managed."

"Who did you vote for?" I blurted, ignoring that Grandpa was trying to lighten the mood.

"That Irisa girl and my old bosses son."

"Carter? Why?" I asked, Irisa I understood, Grandpa never liked me hanging out with her; but Carter confused me, he was a year below me at school but from what I knew he seemed like a decent guy.

"He spilled the oil I slipped on when I went down the stairs, and I figured no one else would vote for him."

I hadn't known Carter was the reason Grandpa was like this now, he had never said anything about it before. I couldn't help but wonder if he was lying to me.

* * *

The morning of the reaping was upon me, and surprisingly I was less nervous for the reaping than I had ever been before. I was prepared now, I knew what was coming. I had a week to prepare for it.

I ran myself a lukewarm bath and scrubbed myself clean and soaped up my hair. After I was rinsed off I stood at the mirror pulling my hair up in a bun. My hair wasn't too long, it only fell to my shoulders, and it was thick, so no matter how I pulled it up part of it was sticking out somewhere. I eventually grabbed one of mom's giant clips she wore at work so it could help hold my hair in place. I frowned at my reflection and let the towel wrapped around me drop so I could see my back. Five long scars ran across my entire back, each one going in a different direction. They were now a constant reminder of that life. The life of stealing, the life of lying, the life I thought I wanted. That life turned into so much pain, and it changed me.

I pulled the towel back up and crossed the hall to my bedroom. Ulric had already changed, I could tell because he left his jeans on the floor. I chuckled to myself and sat them up on his bed out of the way. There wasn't a closet in our bedroom, but instead there was a large wooden wardrobe. I opened the doors wide and looked at my options. A pale blue dress with white lace around the bottom, a black skirt paired with a blouse, and a pink dress with a white collar.

I pulled the pink dress out and scoffed at it.

 _"You'll want to look nice for the Capitol when you're standing up on the stage."_ Axl's last words to me. Though I suppose they beat the last words he had said to me a year ago. _"Don't forget to buy a new bar of soap while you're out."_

I tossed the dress aside and rolled my eyes. I looked through my shirts, wondering which one would look the nicest with the black skirt. It should still fit me, I wore it two years ago and it had been a tad long then, I had only grown about an inch taller since then. I had worn a plain white blouse then, but it was stained now. I pulled out my black t-shirt and considered putting a cardigan over it. I had two, a maroon one and a grey one. I pulled open the drawer my cardigans and jeans were folded in and paused. On top of the pile of jeans was my favorite pair. The knees had large holes in them with white strings sticking out all around, and the bottoms were frayed because the pants were too long and I stepped on them with my heels.

 _"You'll want to look nice for the Capitol."_

"Screw it," I said to myself as I pulled the jeans out of the drawer. I put them on along with the black t-shirt and maroon cardigan. I slipped on my black pair of shoes then went back to the bathroom quickly and let my hair back down. I ran my fingers through it and let it thicken back up. Perfect, now I looked like myself again.

I slid into Grandpa's room before mom has a chance to see me. He was already sat up waiting on me. He frowned for just a second at my clothes but then smiled at me.

"Come here babygirl. I have something for you." He ever slightly patted the bed. I sat down and pulled my legs up onto the bed to sit cross legged. "I wanted you to have something. I put it in the drawer of my nightstand when you were twelve so if there was ever a time you were reaped I'd be able to find it."

I lean forward and open the drawer. It's filled with many odd items. A hairbrush, grandma's wedding ring, some sort of gear...

"There's a page of a book in there. I found it after the rebellion. It was the only page of that book I recovered," Grandpa told me.

I dug around for a moment then found the yellowed page folded into a square. I opened it up; tears suddenly welled in my eyes. I hadn't thought about a token before now. It was the first page of the book, 'Chapter One' was printed across the top. Underneath 'Chapter One' was the chapter title. "Faith".

"I have faith you'll get home, Castilla. You're strong. You're determined. You're -"

"I'm lucky to have you." I said, sniffling back tears. Grandpa chuckled softly and smiled at me. I let him keep looking, because I wanted to keep looking at him. This could very well be the last time I'd ever see my grandpa, and I didn't want to let that go just yet. Finally the grandfather clock out in the living room chimed, letting us know it was a quarter till. I wiped back the tears threatening to escape and slipped off the bed. "I love you Grandpa," I said, my voice was barley above a whisper.

"I love you too, Castilla."

I forced myself to turn and leave, if I had stayed for even a second longer I'd have stated bawling. I walked up the short hallway and found Ulric sitting in the armchair. He was dressed nicely, better than myself, with brown slacks and a nice white button up. Mom looked at me, disgusted.

"Where's your dress?" She snapped.

"Not wearing it," I huffed back, I wouldn't look at her and held my hand out for Ulric to take. He hopped out of the chair and took my hand. We walked toward the door.

"You're not going to the reaping like that," Mom insisted.

"I am," I said, still not looking at her.

"Why are you like this?" Mom snapped.

"It's my reaping, it's my name in the bowl. I'm going dressed how I want." I let Ulric lead me out the door. We were already ten steps up the road before mom rushed to catch up.

"You're acting out. You'll regret it later. If you really think it's your name in the bowl then why would you dress in torn jeans? What will the Capitol think?"

"I don't know mom!" I snapped, my stride picking up from anger. "Maybe they'll think I'm an awful person because I wore jeans to the reaping. Oh wait, why would they think that when they're dying to see me stab some kid in the chest?"

"Castilla!"

I turned on my heel, the rocks below my feet crackled and popped under the sudden shift of weight. "Don't try to pretend that's not what's going to happen. My name is going to be called today. I'm going to go into the arena, and if I want to make it back, I'm going to have to kill someone. There's no way around that."

Ulric let out a small squeak and sniffle. I looked down at him, my face relaxed from being twisted in anger. "Ulric, I-"

He jerked his hand away from me and started to walk away.

"Shit." I threw my hands up at mom. "Great, thanks." I rushed forward to catch up with Ulric, I turned so I can see his face and took his shoulders in my hands while kneeling down to meet his eye level. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Ulric, you understand it's something I'll have to do right? I want to make it home, I don't want to die."

"I don't want you to be evil like Axl," Ulric said. That was a punch to the stomach.

"It's not like that. Killing in the Hunger Games, that doesn't make you evil, it's just all part of the show, alright? It makes the Capitol evil for making us do it, but not us. Not the tributes."

Ulric nodded like he understood, so I pulled him in for a quick hug then said, "Let's go, we can't be late."

We reached the square with five minutes to spare. The check in line was long but moving quickly. I hugged Ulric again then parted ways from him and mom. They found a place outside the roped off section to stand while I waited in line. When I reached the table I held my hand out to be pricked, I was waved away almost instantly. I found a spot near the aisle if the 17 year old girl section. There was a low murmur as younger kids started to worry. I wanted to turn to them and let them know that no one was going to vote to send a 12 or 13 year old into the arena.

Our District Escort, Mirka, walked up in the stage in big blue high heels, a spiral skirt that shines in the sunlight, and a puffy blue blouse. Her makeup was wild and impossible to describe. The two glass bowls were brought out in front of us. Each bowl only held one slip of paper folded neatly at the bottom. Mirka tapped on the microphone and everyone fell silent.

"Thank you all for coming today. I am honored to be accompanied today by District Six's very own victor, Lincoln Sheckley. Today marks the beginning of the 25th Annual Hunger Games. This is our very first Quarter Quell, which is very exciting! As a reminder of why we have these annual Games, each Quarter Quell is to hold a twist. This year each district held a vote, and the names of the boy and the girl with the highest amount of votes are here in these bowls. When it is time, I will select the piece of paper and call forth our two tributes. This year, as part of the rules, there are to be no volunteers. The vote is a reminder to the rebels that it is their children who die each year and it was their choice. Before the reaping is to begin, let us watch a video that reminds us all brought forth this event."

We all turned our heads to look at the screen. The same video that we watched every year played loudly around the square. When it was finished Mirka smiled wide.

"Isn't that just wonderful? Now, let us get to what we've all been waiting for. The drawing of our two tributes!" She stepped toward the girls bowl, and as she reached deep inside to pluck out the only piece of paper my heart started to race.

This was it.

"Castilla Shan."

Everything suddenly felt calm, my heart slowed back down and I stepped out into the aisle easily. I had been imagining this over and over. It almost came naturally, like I was always supposed to end up here. I squared my shoulders and climbed the stairs. Mirka smiled at me as I took my place beside her, I didn't smile back. I looked straight ahead, making sure I didn't catch my brother's eye. I couldn't do that, not on stage.

"Let's pick our boy tribute!" Mirka chimed. I noticed one of the cameras stayed focused on me the entire time, so I watched it.

"Our boy tribute is," Mirka said somewhere to my right, "Axl Wallace!"

I smirked. I shouldn't have, but I did. My eyes diverted down toward the boys and there was Axl, looking stunned and betrayed as all the boys around him cleared a path for him to reach the stage. Our eyes met for just a moment, then he diverted them away. He clinched his jaw and fixed his composure before walking to the stage. He stood on the opposite side of Mirka and she smiled widely to the entire crowd.

"Our two tributes for District Six, Castilla Shan and Axl Wallace!"

Part of me wanted to celebrate. Even if it was just for a moment seeing the look of betrayal on Axl's face made me happy, because now he had gotten a glimpse into how I felt a year ago. The other part of me wanted to scream. I couldn't do this with Axl. If these were going to be my last days alive, I didn't want to spend them with him.

"Shake hands," Mirka whispered to us. I kept staring at the the camera that always stayed focused on me. I closed my eyes for a moment, collecting myself. I had to stay calm on the stage. I opened my eyes and turned to face Axl, I stuck my hand out quickly. He took it a bit hesitantly. I looked him right in the eye with a stern glare and was determined not to be the first to break eye contact.


	5. The Train Ride

Axl and I shook hands then continued to glare at each other. Mirka must have noticed the tension because I heard her say loudly to the crowd "Happy Hunger Games!" before she was suddenly beside us. She placed her hand on my shoulder and forced me to turn away from Axl as peacekeepers stepped around us and ushered us through the doors into the Justice Building.

I was escorted down a hallway into a sitting room. I wasn't there for even a minute before my mom and brother burst through a second set of doors. A peacekeeper was right behind them. He grumbled that we had three minutes before stepping back out the door and closing it behind him. Ulric wrapped his small arms around me and I squeezed him tightly.

Mom stood off to the side, watching me with a stare I couldn't quite figure out. She looked sad, but not devastated. She looked shocked, but not horror stricken. She looked... relieved? Was she relieved to be rid of me? I shook my head, reminding myself our minutes were ticking away.

"Don't forget to claim the tesserae every month...and I got some money." I told mom.

"What?" She asked. Ulric pulled away and looked up at me confused.

"Last night I went and got some money for you. It's about 60 dollars, it's not much but-"

"Where did you get it?" Mom cut me off.

"What does that matter? I got it for you and Ulric and grandpa! It's in the book on my bedside table."

"Cas..." There it was, that disappointed tone. I could be very well be off to my death and she couldn't even say _"Thank you"_ or _"I understand now."_

"Forget it," I snapped. I looked back down at Ulric. Silent tears were leaking from his eyes. I pulled him in for another hug. "I love you," the words caught in my throat.

"You're coming back, right?" He pleaded. I couldn't lie to him. I couldn't give him false hope. I wanted to come back to him, and I'd try my hardest too, but I couldn't make that promise.

"I don't know," I said. Tears finally escaped my eyes. "I don't know Ulric."

"I'm scared." Ulric cried.

"Me too," I said, barley above a whisper.

The door opened and three peacekeepers came inside and suddenly everything was happening too fast. One took my mom by the shoulders and started to walk her out of the room while another grabbed Ulric and one grabbed me. They were trying to pull us apart.

"No!" I shrieked. I clutched Ulric tighter but that didn't matter, they had us apart in seconds. "No!" I screamed over and over again. I kicked and punched but it didn't help. I was roughly pulled out of the room as Ulric was carried off the other way, screaming and crying just as loud. "Let go of me!" I kicked and suddenly I was dropped heavily onto the ground.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Mirka's high voice carried over to us, she sounded absolutely horrified. "Why are you treating her this way? Help her up, come on, come on!" And I was suddenly being pulled back up to my feet. Everything was happening too fast. "This way dear, the car is waiting to take us to the train."

I followed Mirka out of the building and tried to compose myself as I went. That could have been my last time seeing Ulric. I wiped my tears with the sleeves of my cardigan. I didn't want Axl to have the satisfaction of seeing me upset.

Axl was already in the car. Mirka climbed into the middle seat then beckoned me forward. I'd like to decline, to tell her "No that's alright. I'll just catch the next car." before running away, but the peacekeeper stood too close for comfort. I climbed into the car and the door closed on my quickly. I was barley positioned in my seat before the engine revved up and we were lurched forward.

Axl glanced around Mirka. "Cas..." he said gently. I knew he was looking at my bloodshot and watery eyes, because no matter how hard I tried I couldn't keep the tears back.

"Don't," I huffed. I looked down at my hands in my lap.

"Well, you two seem to already know each other. No need for you to get acquainted then. Lincoln will love that, he always says tributes spend too much time on the train trying to get to know each other. He sees it as a waste of time."

"Yeah considering at least one of us will be dead soon," I huffed. Mirka had to hear me, she wasn't three inches away, but she acted like she didn't.

"You will love the train! It's full of wonderful treats and the couches are the softest things you'll ever sit on. Then when we get to the Capitol, oh my you're in for a show!"

We reached the train and were escorted to it by several Peacekeepers. Only a small number of people from the District came to see us off. I kept my head down and climbed the stairs up into the train. It hadn't been my first time on a train. In fact I had been in trains just like this one a handful of times.

I used to clean trains. I started the job when I fourteen years old. I mostly cleaned cargo trains, which wasn't the best. But trains like this one were practically gold. They came through at least twice a year. For the Reapings and for the Victory Tours. Since it was District 6's job to built and maintain all forms of transportation, it was also our job to clean the trains when they come through. District 6 was always halfway through the Victory Tour, so it was the perfect time to clean the train when it came through; and we always had to do so while the Victor was out in the District giving his or her speech. The lack of supervision on the job thanks to my lazy boss meant I could easily slip something into my bag when no one was looking. Of course my boss eventually found out what I had been doing, no thanks to Axl, so I had been fired.

Mirka gestured for us to sit down on the couches and we obeyed. Axl picked at the threading on the couch and Mirka snapped at him to make him stop. I grinned to myself and pulled my feet up to cross my legs. Mirka snapped at me, "Feet down." Axl grinned that time.

We sat in silence as the train started to pull forward, within minutes we were speeding out of District Six. I glanced out the windows and watched as the factories slowly faded in the distance. My stomach started to hurt again.

"So," Mirka chimed, "how do you two know each other?"

Axl and I shared a glance then looked back at Mirka, who was sitting there beaming at us.

"I don't know him," I said coldly.

Mirka looked taken aback and confused, "But I thought -"

"I thought too," I interrupted, "but that's not important."

"We dated," Axl said. I shot him a dirty look.

"Ooooo! How scandalous. What caused your fallen out?" Mirka asked. She was looking at us wide eyed and excited. This was all a good show for her. Itt made me angry.

"Why do you care? Why does that even matter?" I didn't want to be talking about it.

Lincoln Sheckley entered the car then, and luckily he drew the attention away from my and Axl's past.

"I like you," he said instantly. He was pointing at me. "You could have done with wearing a dress, but that aside I like you. I can sell you to the Capitol."

"Sorry?" I scoffed.

"You fared well up on that stage, District Six never looks as good as you did on there. You too," he added for Axl. "Now I know the District is a bit... not happy with you two... but the Capitol don't know that. They don't know why you were voted in, so we can twist that, make it into anything we want. I'm thinking, and imagine it now, alright?" He held his hands up mimicked a banner, "'The best in the District.'"

"Best what?" Axl chuckled.

"That's the thing, the Capitol don't know do they? But we claim the District saw you as the best, and the Capitol will see you as the best too." Lincoln was jumpy, and it finally clicked why, Axl noticed too.

"You're high," Axl scoffed, "great."

"No, no I'm not high. I'm exhilarated." He tapped his temple multiple times with two fingers. "My mind is swimming with hundreds of ways to get you sponsors."

"For now," Axl said, "Soon you'll be passed out and we'll be without a mentor."

"Shall we eat?" Mirka butted in, "I say we eat!"She stood and started toward another car. Axl, Lincoln, and I stared at her as she went. She turned in the doorway. "Well come on."

I huffed and pushed myself off of the couch to follow her. Lincoln and Axl weren't far behind. A table was already laid out with food and Axl and I both hovered by the door. I had seen food displays like this before when cleaning the trains. It was always when the trains came through for Victory Tours. I'd normally slip a loaf of bread or some chocolates into my bag; but now I was being asked to sit down at the table and eat the food. This wasn't something just sitting there to mock me, to beg me to steal it. It was mine.

We all sat and for a long moment the only sound was of silverware clinking and chairs scrapping lightly on the floor. Mirka watched me and Axl as we each took some of the food. I didn't take much, my stomach still hurt and I couldn't help feeling a bit guilty about eating all this food while my family was back in six eating bread from the tesserae. Axl loaded his plate up, he filled it completely with vegetables and meats.

Mirka finally spoke when Axl took a bite. "Isn't it scrumptious?" She asked.

"Um, yeah..." Axl mumbled through his bite of food.

"Better eat up kiddo, you'll want the strength," Lincoln said to me. I looked down at my plate of food and stabbed a steamed carrot with my fork. Now everyone was watching me, waiting to see my pure joy as I took a bite of the best food I've ever had. I set it back down.

"I'm not hungry," I said. Mirka threw her hands up in the air like I was the most impossible tribute she'd ever dealt with. Lincoln just chuckled a bit.

"If you aren't going to eat, come watch the Reapings with me, I dare say we were one of the better Reaping." Lincoln stood and started to walk away. I hastily followed him, glad to leave Axl and Mirka behind. "They won't be done yet, but we can watch all the Districts before you, then maybe catch all the outer districts live."

"Why do we have to watch them all?" I asked as Lincoln led me into another car, this one had a large screen up on one wall and a large L-shaped couch. Lincoln made himself comfortable and stretched out on the couch. I took a seat farther on the other side. Lincoln flipped on the TV and went back to District One.

"We don't got to watch the whole thing, just the tributes. Reapings tell us a lot about the tributes. This year, with no volunteers, it's still obvious the Careers were picked. I assume they rallied for votes, insane huh?"

"Insane," I said in agreement. Up on the screen two teenagers stood on the stage. The girl was beautiful, there was no denying that. She had long silky blonde hair, sharp features, and as the camera zoomed in on her face you could see piercing green eyes. The boy was handsome, with a surprisingly soft face and eyes. He didn't look like a killer, but looks were deceiving.

District Two scared me, I couldn't deny that. Both tributes looked strong, they stood on stage radiating confidence, and they both looked like they could kill you with their bare hands. I reminded myself they probably could. District Three wasn't anything impressive. They girl looked mildly upset but was hiding it well, and the boy looked calm, like he knew it was coming. District Four had to be Careers this year, they were both tall and muscular. It was always a mystery with District Four. Sometimes they had volunteers and sometimes they didn't. But Lincoln was right, it seemed they must have asked for the votes, they wanted to enter the games.

District Five made me feel a bit bad, the girl was younger, possibly thirteen or fourteen. I never expected anyone younger than sixteen to be voted into The Hunger Games by their District. She started crying when her name was called, but no one looked upset for her. Was she like me? Had she done something to make her District hate her? Were all of us going to be criminals this year?

I didn't even notice District 6 was next, it looked so different on camera. Somehow the whole square looked lighter and more cheerful. The awful smog that hovers in the air from the factories was absent, the grey buildings and ground actually looked vibrant and clean, and even us, the citizens of District Six, didn't look so pale and washed out. How did the Capitol manage to make my home look so welcoming on camera? In real life it was dull and depressing.

On the TV Mirka called my name, and I watched as I stepped out into the aisle. I looked ready and determined.

I glanced at Lincoln and he was grinning at the screen.

I was up on stage now, and I looked... I looked scary. I was completely emotionless and staring sharply at the camera. The camera changed to Mirka as she called Axl onto the stage. Instead of showing the crowds reaction like all the previous Reapings, the camera was back to me. And I was smirking. To anyone watching I might have looked ready for the challenge ahead.

Axl looked slightly taken aback on camera. He was clearly shocked, but not upset. And when we shook hands it was clear we both knew each other. The whole Capitol would know, and Lincoln seemed to love that idea. He clicked the TV off just as District 7 came onto the screen.

"See what I mean?" He asked. "Don't that make you look good? What are you good at? From rumors that trickle up to me in the Victors Village you're a thief, but that'll only get you so far in the games. Can you fight?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I've punched a couple people, but that's about it."

"Is that why Axl's nose is busted up?" Lincoln asked. He sounded somewhat hopefully.

"Yeah," I answered. I was liking Lincoln more and more by minute.

"Well listen, I'm going to convince the Capitol you were chosen for the Quarter Quell not because District Six doesn't like you, but because they think you have what it takes to win, but I need you to play along, don't go letting other tributes know why you were picked. Let them think you've got some sort of hidden talent, make them afraid of you, alright?"

"But I don't have a hidden talent." I pointed out.

Lincoln points at the blank TV screen. "They don't know that, do they?"

I grinned and looked back up at the TV, "Should we watch the rest?" I asked.

Lincoln flipped the TV back on and District Seven's reaping was almost finished. It seemed to be two sixteen year olds. We sat in silence and watched the last five Reapings play out live. District Eight was a sixteen year old girl who looked practically homeless, and a seventeen year old boy who didn't looked much better than the girl. District Nine looked like typical tributes from Nine. Both lean and tanned but didn't stand out as anyone special. District Ten looked like they had a chance. The boy was large and square, and the girl looked like she was hiding something.

District Eleven was actually a bit exciting. The girl, who was eighteen, refused to move from her spot and was dragged onto the stage by two Peacekeepers. She fought them the entire way. The boy moved quickly, probably in fear that the peacekeepers would force him onto the stage as well. Last was District Twelve, poor District Twelve. They almost always died in the Bloodbath. Both tributes were extremely skinny and frail, and I questioned why the District wouldn't take the opportunity to send someone stronger into the Hunger Games this year. Unless they simply don't have anyone stronger.

Lincoln ushered me out of the room and showed me a bedroom I could rest in. He said we still had about seven hours until we reached the Capitol, and advised I tried to sleep because when we arrived I was in for a whirlwind of "excitement." I doubted it was actually going to be exciting but listened to Lincoln and sat down on the bed. I sighed, all those kids up on the screen were going to die. All but one. Twenty-three of us were currently on trains speeding towards our deaths, and one of us was on a train speeding toward our victory. A victory that was going to come with a heavy price.


	6. Arriving at the Capitol

**AN: Thank you jul312 and fangirlonline for the reviews! I wasn't sure what people would think of Castilla and Axl but I'm happy to hear you like them and like the story so far!**

* * *

I had only managed three hours of sleep on and off. Every time my eyes closed and I dozed off I would start dreaming about the arena. I'd see the boy and girl from Two diving at me with swords and knives. Or I'd be stuck, unable to move my feet or scream for help while the girl from One went to cut my head off.

Eventually I gave up on trying to sleep, because it only made me more exhausted, and left the small bedroom. Somewhere music was playing. It wasn't like any music I'd heard before. The only music offered to us in Six was boring instrumental music, and no one cared to play it much. No one wanted to waste power on a radio when they needed it to light their homes or cook their meals.

I hovered outside the door the music was coming from. Someone was singing over the radio. I went to knock then stopped myself. Was it Axl's room? Even if it was, I had to talk to him eventually, right? I knocked on the door and was relieved when it was Lincoln's voice that called me inside.

"You're suppose to be sleeping, Castilla," Lincoln said from the armchair across the small room. I shrugged and made myself comfortable on the bed by pulling my legs up and crossing them.

"Couldn't sleep," I said, "This music is... odd."

Lincoln chuckled, "It's good, no? Different though. It's some new band out of the Capitol."

"It's kind of makes me... I don't know."

"Mad?" Lincoln asks, "Yeah me too. The Capitol don't see it that way though."

I frown at Lincoln, he wasn't as hyper as he had been earlier on the train ride, and he's eyes had dark circles around them. "You look awful," I blurted.

"I'm getting off the Morphling. I dumped the pills just before you arrived on the train. I could use one right about now."

"You dumped them?" I asked. I was shocked. I'd never heard of a Morphling addict destroying their own stash.

"It'll take me a couple days to get completely sobered up. I normally try to sober up before the Reapings but this year..." He trailed off for a moment. "I'll be sober before you start training. Don't worry."

"What's it like?" I asked.

"Morphling?"

"The Games."

"Terrifying. It doesn't feel real at first. Then after a couple days in the arena, it becomes too real. I'm sure you know what I had to do during the games, you were what? Twelve? Thirteen? When I was reaped."

"Twelve, I remember because it was my first reaping."

"Well, I was sixteen then and sure I was going to die. I thought the reaping was the scariest moment of my life. Then the Bloodbath. Then it was day two, then day five. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, every single day feels the scariest moment of your life."

"And now that you're here?" I asked, hoping I wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

"Every day is still the scariest moment of my life," Lincoln sighed. He stared off toward the wall for a long moment. Then shook his head, snapping himself out of his trance. "We've got about two hours. I'm gonna sleep while I can. You're welcome to stay and listen to the music."

"Don't you want it off while you sleep?" I asked as I climbed off the bed.

"No," Lincoln stretched out over the blankets. His words slurred. "I can't sleep when it's quiet. My mind becomes an echo chamber. Trust me the music helps."

"I'll see you in a couple hours then," I said, but I wasn't sure Lincoln heard me. His eyes were already closed and he seemed asleep.

* * *

Lincoln was right, when the train pulled into the Capitol it was a whirlwind. People dressed and made up in every color imaginable were clapping and cheering and trying to get a look at us as we exited the train. Axl waved back at them, he seemed to be half enjoying all the attention and half in shock from it. I just wanted it to go away. We were escorted into a large shiny building that was buzzing with life. It only took a moment for Axl and I to be separated. I spun around, realizing I suddenly didn't know anyone around me. I was nervous, and not exactly sure where I was being led.

"This way!" A man with light purple hair and dark blue eye shadow said to me. I didn't even remember seeing him approach me. He simply appeared there in the crowd of people. I followed him into the small room where he gestured toward a chair. "Take a seat. I'm Hawkins, all my friends call me Hawk. You're welcome to as well. I'm your stylist. I just adore working with District Six, there's always so many options on how to dress you. Last year I was with District Seven and well, we all know there's only so much one can do with them."

"Sorry?" I asked, my mind was still spinning and I hadn't been able to follow the conversation.

"Your chariot costume, my dear! Why it's going to be grand this year! After all it is a Quarter Quell, everyone wants to do their best for such a special occasion." Hawkins stood beside me with some sort of scanning device and ran it over my body. He read something on the screen then nodded. "Good, good. Decent measurement, it shouldn't take me long to make the costume exactly your size. Now I'm going to turn you over to my prep team and let them fix you up a bit. Next time I see you you'll be an entirely different person."

Hawk left and I was alone. I could hear my heart pounding in the quiet room. What would happen if I left the room? How far would I get before anyone realized I was running away? I didn't have time to let that plan even begin to form before three people came bounding into the room.

"Follow us, Castilla. We need to get you all cleaned up," A woman with spiky green hair said. I followed them into another room where several white curtains were surrounding us and I could hear an abundance of chatter just outside them.

"Clothes off."

"What?" I asked. I couldn't focus on everything around me, I was pretty sure they had all told me their names just moments before but I missed it all.

"Clothes off." The youngest of the stylist repeated.

My fingers found the hem of my shirt and I pulled it up over my head and dropped it on the floor. Cold fingers lightly touch my back and I jolt forward and spun quickly to see who had touched me.

"Sorry," the young stylist said, "It's just, your scars, they're so beautiful."

I frowned, my eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

"They're so artist. How'd you get them?" The young stylist asked.

"I- what?" I asked. I had been completely shocked and at a loss for words.

"Per, don't ask the tributes that." The dark purple haired stylist said. "Now come on, everything off, we need to get you cleaned up."

I took off rest of my clothing and a man came to take them away. "Wait!" I had practically shouted, startling the prep team. "My token is in my pocket."

"I'll take your things to your room. No need to worry, it'll be safe." The man said. I started to worry about letting the book page out of my sight, but the man left with my things.

The prep team had me step into a shower, and they had several hoses they sprayed me down with. I shivered in the water and was thankful when they let me get out. They laid me down on an even colder table. I gritted my teeth. My head was in a basin while the young stylist washed my hair and yanked out some of the knots in it. The other stylist worked on my arms and legs, removing all the hair from them in a very painful manner. Finally, after at least two hours of scrubbing my body and straightening my thick hair the prep team led me back into the small room with the chair. Hawkins was waiting with a large smile on his face.

"What did I tell you! You're a whole new person. My don't you just look lovely. Here, I have your parade costume all ready. Let's try it on!"

Hawk held out the costume. It was tires, but they were shaped like a dress. He helped me put it on. I expected it to be heavy, but it was much lighter than anticipated. I stepped over to a mirror to look at it. Two thinner tires, like the type on cars, fell over my shoulders and down my chest and back in a deep V. I turned to look at my back, expecting to see my scars, but they had been covered up with makeup. The top of the dress blended nicely with two larger tires, like those on a peacekeeper vehicle. The dress went to my knees. Hawk handed me white tights. I pulled them up my legs. I had to admit the black of the tires looked good with the white. My shoes were sleek black high heels. I had never worn heels before, so I had to sit down while strapping them on. Hawk and the rest of the stylist beamed at me.

"Wonderful! Just wonderful!" Hawk said. I stood up and wobbled in place. "Ah well, luckily you won't have to do any walking on the chariot. But keep them on, you'll have to walk on stage in front of all of Panem in just a few short days." Hawk helped me walk out of the room. I felt silly leaning on him for support while I found my balance in the heels.

We entered a very large room. It was lined with chariots and horses and at least fifty people were hurrying about. Farther up the row of chariots I could see both of the Tributes from District Three talking with their stylist and escort. They were dressed in colorful wires that spread out all around them, making it look impossible for them both to fit in their Chariot. I looked around me and spotted a tribute dressed in overalls. I couldn't tell who it was, and didn't remember many faces from the outer districts, but my guess was District eleven or twelve. The room started to fill quickly and my stomach started to hurt again.

Finally Lincoln arrived with Mirka. Lincoln still looked dreadful.

"Nice dress," Lincoln chuckled just as Mirka had said "Isn't that lovely!"

I looked down at it. "Yeah, it's good," I don't know why I said it, but it kept my mind off what was coming.

"Where's Axl?" Mirka asked in her high voice. She spun around slowly on her tiptoes trying to look over heads to find him.

"I think his prep team was trying to find a way to cover up the crookedness of his nose," Hawk informed Mirka.

I grinned to myself and started to look up the row of Chariots again.

"Hey," Lincoln stole my attention. "Don't worry about the other tributes, alright? I want you to go out there and I want you to look fierce and determined. Can you do that?"

"I don't know," I said.

"You can, I know you can. Oh good, Axl's here." Lincoln beckoned Axl and his stylist to hurry over to us. Axl was in a matching costume, except his torso was covered with only one tire that looked like a sash and his legs were bare. Axl stood beside me.

"I need you two to act like you like each other, ok? I was listening in and the Capitol can't wait to hear the story behind you two. Now remember, I'm going to sell you as the best. So when those cameras are on you two, you need to look like the best. "

Axl nodded. Lincoln glared at me hard, waiting for my response. I nodded just as a bell started to chime, signalling it was almost time for the parade.

Axl held his hand out to help me onto the chariot. I looked away from him and hoisted myself up into the chariot. It couldn't have looked very elegant, but I wasn't taking the help from him. I steadied myself in the chariot and held so tightly onto the metal bar in front of me my knuckles turned white. All around us other tributes were beginning to climb into their own chariots. It was only a minute before another bell chimed, and the wide doors at the front of the large room opened.


	7. Confronting Axl

The chariots in front of me and Axl slowly disappeared through the large door. Each time they did a roar of cheers erupted, making my entire brain feel like it was rattling. District Five went through the door and I braced myself to be next. When the chariot finally jolted forward I took in a deep breath, steadying myself. Fierce and determined.

I set my jaw and kept my eyes focused forward. We were outside in seconds and the crowd erupted. I wanted to look over at them. I couldn't truly believe they were cheering for me. _Me._ Castilla Shan. The girl who stole straight from peoples' homes.

Beside me Axl moved a bit, and I realized he was waving. Idiot. Lincoln had told us to look like the best. Not like tributes who were trying to beg for votes.

Suddenly Axl wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I reacted before thinking. I shoved him away from me angrily. For that second I wasn't on the chariot. For that second I wasn't on TV for all of Panem to see. For that second I was only focused on getting Axl away from me. I couldn't believe he thought he could do that! But it was the reaction of the crowd that drew me back. There had been a mix of gasp and screams. Axl was composing himself, standing back straight and quickly wiping the shock off his face. He chuckled a bit and gave the crowd a reassuring wave that he was alright. Some of them laughed, but others seemed concerned.

I wasn't fairing as well as Axl. I was frazzled. What had just happened? Our chariot pulled up beside District Five and it didn't take long for District Seven to pull up beside us. I was trying to stand tall. I was trying to look determined and fierce. But all I could think was the Capitol was going to hate me just like District Six did. And just like a year ago Axl was going to be seen as the poor innocent guy I bullied around.

Finally our chariots were pulled away from the cheering crowd and cameras and we were free. I ripped the heels off my aching feet before the chariot even came to a halt. All the escorts and mentors were rushing to their tributes. Mirka and Lincoln came storming to us, both looked furious.

"What the hell was that!?" Lincoln shouted before he even reached us.

I became vaguely aware of everyone else in the room turning to look at us. Luckily Lincoln was smart enough not to make much more of a scene. Instead he grabbed my shoulder and guided me out of the room and toward an elevator. Mirka and Axl weren't far behind us.

As soon as the elevator doors closed Lincoln spoke again. "What the hell is the issue between you two? I get you've had some sort of past but you've got to drop that. The Capitol won't like either of you if they think you'll turn on each other. They like a good show, but not District partners turning on each other before the games even start!"

"The history is simple," I snapped, "Axl is a jerk and I hate him."

Axl wouldn't look at me. Instead he was staring harshly at the buttons on the elevator and clearly biting his tongue. He had always been good at keeping is mouth shut when it was convenient for him.

"Look, I talked to people around the District about the voting. Axl got the votes from those who knew his dad was a raging Morphling and figured it was only a short amount of time before he turned out to be just like him. You, Castilla, got the votes because you were publicly whipped for stealing food from _fifteen homes!_ I knew even before the reaping and I'm sure you did that it was going to be your name on that slip of paper. I was thinking you were going to be a loss cause, and that you would be unruly and impossible. But I was pleasantly surprised when I found out I might actually be able to make a Victor out of you. Until... until..."

"Until now," I finished for Lincoln. "Because I pushed him off me?"

"You nearly knocked him out of the chariot." Mirka chimed in. I wanted to scream at her. She was so clueless!

"I was alright," Axl spoke up. We all looked at him, he wasn't looking at us, the buttons on the elevator were still apparently very interesting as the number of our floor finally lit up. The doors opened but none of us moved. "I was dumb, I shouldn't have put my arm around Cas. I knew she wouldn't like it but I thought the Capitol would so I tried it. It's my fault not Cas's."

My jaw was dropped opened. I couldn't believe it. Axl was actually taking responsibility for something. The doors to the elevator closed and it was Mirka who dived forward to open them again before the elevator changed floors. She stood tapping her foot waiting for us to move or say something. Finally I spoke.

"I'm sorry I pushed Axl in the chariot," I said to Lincoln. I couldn't bring myself to thank Axl. Part of me wanted too, but I didn't feel he actually deserved my thanks. Not yet. Axl shrugged then left the elevator when he realized I wasn't going to give him a response. I followed him out and Lincoln wasn't far behind. The elevator opened into a small room with two large doors.

"This suite is all yours while you're here. You're welcome to use everything inside." Mirka opened the door to the right and held her arms out to present the glamorous suite to us.

I stood back and took in the room. A couple people set a long glass table to my left. To my right was a lounge room with sleek leather chairs and a large TV screen up on the wall. Ahead of me were more large doors that I assumed opened up into bedrooms and bathrooms. Axl walked over to the table that was being set and looked over all the colorful fruits already set in the middle. I went to join him, and the people setting the table looked over at us. One of the men was extremely pale, but he's eyes were beady and black, making him scary looking. Mirka rushed over to us and snapped her fingers at the man. He jumped back into action and finished taking the food off the carts and placing it on the table.

Avoxes. These people were Avoxes. I had studied them in school. I shivered. They had had their tongues cut out; and I had thought my punishment was bad. At least I could still speak.

* * *

After we all ate dinner I announced I was going to sleep; despite it not being that late. Lincoln, who looked horrible, agreed and left quickly. That left Mirka and Axl. I grinned. "Well Axl, I guess that means you get to keep Mirka company."

"Oh, lovely!" Mirka chimed. Axl glared up at me. I winked at him then turned on my heel quickly before Axl could protest. Mirka was already talking about a new hair color she wanted to try. I grinned at my small victory of getting away from Mirka first as I entered the room that had been pointed out to me as mine. It was a circular room. A large bed was set to the left, ahead of me was a window that stretched up the entire wall. I walked over to it. We were several floors up. A few lights started to flicker on as the sun started to set. I sat down on the floor and watched as it got darker outside and more and more lights in the giant city surrounding me came on. It was actually very pretty. I had never seen anything like it before. A large TV screen was farther down in a small city square. I could make out that it was a ranking chart. Capitol Citizens were already betting on who had the best chance of winning. I couldn't read anything it said but I knew my name was on their somewhere. Probably at the bottom.

I sighed and entered the bathroom attached to my circular room. I ripped off the tire dress I had been wearing for entirely too long and stepped into the shower. I washed away all the makeup, and by time I was finished I was exhausted. I dried off lazily and when I went back into the bedroom I was relieved to find my normal clothes sitting on top of the dresser. I pulled the book page out of my pocket, checked that it was still ok, then set it down on top of the dresser. Inside the dresser was pair of pajamas waiting for me.

Now in silk pajamas I crawled into the large bed. It was worse than the one on the train because it was too soft. I sank deep down into the mattress, the pillows were squishy, and the blankets were too thick. It was all too nice.

I laid there in the too soft bed and started to cry. I missed _my_ bed and _my_ pillows and _my_ blankets. I missed my pajamas and I missed my room. I missed my food and the vegetable soup mom would splurge on once a week because she felt everyone needed a hearty meal once a week.

I cried because I actually missed my mom. I missed my Grandpa. I missed Ulric. Thinking of him made me cry even harder. I slammed my fist into the stupid squishy pillows because it was all so unfair. It was unfair that I was trapped here. It was unfair that Ulric and Grandpa were back home worried about me. I cried and screamed and punched the pillows because I imagined Ulric sitting in the corner of his bed, hidden behind the door, playing cards all by himself. I cried and screamed and punched the pillows because he'd have to walk to school by himself trying his hardest to ignore the beggars on the streets.

I was sick of laying in that bed. It seemed to only make things worse. I started to pace the room to calm myself. But it didn't help. My breath still caught painfully in my chest and I couldn't stop thinking of home. I picked up the page of the book Grandpa gave me and sat by the window to use the light from the city to read it by. I read the front and back twice, or what I could make out of it because some of it was faded away. It made me smile. Faith. Grandpa had faith in me. It seemed like Lincoln did too. I just had to prove it to both of them.

I kept the page tightly tucked in one palm and found the smallest of the blankets to wrap around myself before I left the bedroom.

The sitting room had no lights on but the TV was playing. It was a recap of the tribute parade. I walked quietly over to the couches to find Axl stretched out across one. He was wearing a matching set of silk pajamas and looked just as exhausted as I felt. He hadn't heard me walk over. I glanced up at the TV. It was turned down but the screen showed District Seven dressed in brown singlets and wrapped in vines. Good, it was already past District Six. I didn't want to see myself on TV again.

I cleared my throat, Axl glanced up at me lazily.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

"No," I answered as I curled up in the large black armchair.

"Me either. It's all a lot to take in."

"I miss home," I admitted. Axl stayed quiet and continued to watch the parade. He was thinking hard, I could tell. I looked down at the page in my hand. I had to say something. Anything. I couldn't continue on like this. I needed to know what Axl was thinking. And not just about missing home or the parade; I needed to know what he thought about everything. But I didn't know how to ask. I couldn't bring myself to address the major issues.

So instead I blurted, "Did you bring a token?"

"No." Axl said without looking away from the TV. District Nine was now being showcased.

"Did anyone come to tell you goodbye?"

"No." He didn't sound like he cared much.

"Not even Viktor or Irisa?"

"Nope."

I waited a moment, thinking about what to say next. If I even really wanted too say anything else to him. "I stole sixty dollars before the reaping."

Now Axl was interested. He sat halfway up to look at me, something mischievous glinted in his eye.

"My family needed the money before I left so I went and got some," I explained.

"From where?" Axl asked. He sat up fully and gave me all his attention.

"A couple different places," I said, "I don't feel great about it. But I needed to help my family before I left. So I just went and did it."

"You just went and did it? Just like that? Like nothings changed? What would you have done if you were caught, Cas?"

I shrugged. "Voting was over by then. And I decided a long time ago if people were going to treat me like a thief and scum then that's who I was going to be."

Axl frowned at me. It wasn't a sad frown but a curious frown. "So you've still been stealing stuff? You never stopped after... after everything."

"Once in awhile. But only when we got really desperate. Haven't you?"

"No."

"Bullshit!"

"I haven't. Honestly!" Axl insisted with a chuckle. I narrowed my eyebrows and studied him. He didn't seem to be lying.

"What do you think our chances are?" I finally asked.

Axl looked back up at the TV for a moment. District Eleven was on the TV in overalls and fruit hats. I watched Axl, trying to figure out what he was thinking. Finally he signed. "Districts One and Two are getting stronger every year, and I think District Four will join them this year. There's no little kids with us so it might be more competitive than previous years."

"You didn't answer my question," I said.

"From where I'm sitting, the odds aren't great, Cas," Axl admitted. I looked up at the TV too. It was District Twelve. Both tributes were too thin and too frail. I had to remind myself that no matter how bad my odds looked there was always someone else with worse odds.

Axl turned the TV off and jumped to his feet. He held his hand out toward me. I looked at it questioningly.

"Come on, I want to show you something," Axl said. I reached forward and let Axl pull me out of the chair. He lead me toward his room.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I found them on the train. Mirka saw me messing with them and I asked her if I could take them. She was a bit reluctant at first but eventually she caved." Axl flipped the light in his room on and it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden blinding light. When they finally adjusted Axl was walking back toward me holding a deck of brand new shiny blue playing cards.

"No way!" I said excitedly. Playing cards. New, shiny cards.

Axl grinned, "I knew you'd like them. Can you still throw them?"

"Yeah," I breathed, but I wasn't thinking about throwing these. I stepped forward and took the cards from Axl. "Ulric would love these. They're so sleek."

"I was thinking, you've always been good at throwing cards, what do you think about knives or stars? They always have some in the games."

I flipped the cards over in my hands, only half hearing what Axl was saying. I was too busy thinking about Ulric. "No I suck with knives," I muttered.

"You've tried?" Axl asked.

"A bit," I said. I sat down on the bed and started sorting the cards out the way Ulric always did. Axl sat beside me and started to help.

"Are you going to take Lincoln's advice and make the tributes think you have some sort of secret? Something that makes you dangerous?" Axl asked.

"I'm not really sure how to do that," I said.

Axl chuckle., "No me neither."

"I guess we could always take the cards," I said. Axl frowned at me, clearly confused, so I explained. "I'll just casually throw the cards around here and there. Remember how I made that one zoom by Irisa's ear. I could do that in the training center. That might freak some of them out, knowing I can throw something so close to them. Of course I have to do it right first try or I'll just look like and idiot."

Axl chuckled and swiped an ace away from me before saying, "I don't even know where to start with training. It's bad but I've never thought about it before. I always felt the odds were in my favor. My name was only going to be in the bowl seven times this year. Then the twist happened."

"It sucks," I agreed. I spotted the red five card I had been looking for and moved it to it's right spot before speaking again. I didn't want to look at Axl when I said what was on my mind. "The ironic thing is we use to steal food and money and things to trade so we wouldn't have to add our names to the bowls more. We thought it would keep us safer, but stealing is exactly the reason my name was in there this time." There was a heavy silence. I had to ask. "Why did you let me take the blame?" I looked up at Axl. I didn't want too, but I had to see what he was saying really was true.

He winced but he seemed to know the question would come eventually. He fiddled with the card in his hand.

"I want to truth," I said sternly, "Don't feed me that line that you where going too. You were there when I was being cuffed to the pole. I saw you. The Peacekeepers called everyone out of the shops before they started because they wanted to make an example of me. The more people who witnessed it the better. And I saw you there, Axl. You just watched."

Axl glared down at the cards on the bed before swiping his hand angrily over them and scattering them across the floor. He stood up and walked over to the window, refusing to look at me. I clinched my fist. He had zero reason to be mad. He should have been feeling guilty and awful, but not mad.

"Axl!" I said angrily.

"What do you want me to say, Cas?" He snapped. He finally turned to look at me. "Do you want me to say I screwed up? Do you want me to say I'm a shitty person? Because I've always been a shitty person and you know that! That never changed! What happened wasn't on me. I told you not to take the food back. You knew the risk. I'm sorry everything turned out alright for me and not for you. I'm sorry that Mr. Carmichael vouched that I was with him all morning. I'm sorry you got fired at work and I didn't. But I'm not sorry that I didn't step forward. We always said that if one of us was caught we wouldn't rat each other out; but you did, Cas."

I felt numb. My whole body seemed to buzz. I didn't know if it was anger, confusion, both, or neither. But I felt numb and I didn't know what to say. I had never expected to get answers from Axl. A year ago I had never planned to see him again. But I had just gotten his answer and I wasn't prepared for it.

I stood up and started to walk out of the room. I wanted to be alone. Axl called for me to stop but I didn't. I slammed the door behind me and rushed to my room. With the door closed and the room dark I curled up on the bed, but I wouldn't let myself cry again. I had cried too much that night. Had it been my fault my world went to hell? Had it been my fault I was the outcast. If I had just taken the punishment without trying to say it was Axl who stole the food would he have confessed afterwards? Would I have been the one everyone felt bad for afterwards? Would I have been seen as an innocent victim? Would I be home right now if I had just kept my mouth shut? It was all too much to think about.


	8. Defense Training

_"Where did you get all of that?"_ _I had asked. In front of me two schoolbags were filled with food._

 _"Around," Axl shrugged, "we're celebrating!"_

 _"Axl." I was concerned. This food hadn't come from the market_ , _some of it was already opened._ _It also couldn't have come from the trains because there hadn't been a decent passenger train come through in two months that actually had food in it._

 _"What?" Axl asked as he started to pull the food out of the bags and put it away in his kitchen cabinets._

 _"Did you take this from someone's home?"_

 _"I went to a few different homes and took a bit here and there. It's nothing they'll realize is missing."_

 _"Nothing they'll realize is missing!? Axl! This is someone's food! If any of these items went missing from my home I'd know it!" I started to dig through the bags. My mind had been spinning. What the hell was wrong with him!_

 _"No trust me!" Axl insisted. He took my wrist in his hands to stop me from going through all the food. He turned me so that I was facing him. "I took it from the families that have too much food anyway. It wasn't the homes on your side of the district or any of the apartments over here. Trust me they won't even know it's gone."_

 _"Who? Who did you take it from?" I snatched my arms away from him._

 _"The Trams and the Sanders and stuck-up people like Judy Wheeler," Axl told me._

 _"Just because they have more money than the rest of us doesn't mean you can-"_

 _Axl stopped me. He took my shoulders in his hands and looked me right in the eye. "It'll all be ok, Cas."_

 _I shook my head. "We said we wouldn't steal from homes, Axl. We have to take it back."_

 _"Take it back? You can't take it back, Cas! Today was the best day to break into the homes. We just elected a new major so everyone was away from their homes at the celebration. All the peacekeepers were there monitoring. The homes were left wide open, Cas. If we take it back people could be home, or Peacekeepers could be watching. It's too risky. It's our food now, ok? We'll have our own celebration that stuck-up Judy Wheeler can get off her high horse about her dad being Major and leave people like me and you alone for once."_

 _"We have to take it back," I said again. The Trams had a five year old daughter. Axl was stealing from a kid._

 _"Cas don't," Axl said sternly. "Don't try to take it back."_

I was woken by a harsh knocking on the door. Mirka's high voice was frantic on the other side. "Castilla! Castilla Shan! Castilla you have to get up. Come on, come on. Get up! You're going to be late."

I groaned and curled up tighter in my small ball. I was comfortable and tired and did not want to move. I didn't get nearly enough sleep. It took me too long to fall asleep due to my mind spinning with hundreds of thoughts and questions. And when I finally did fall asleep I woke up every hour due to nightmares.

Mirka knocked frantically. "Castilla I'm coming in there if you don't get up this very moment!"

"I'm up!" I shouted at the door angrily. I shifted in the bed and realized the book page was still folded and clamped tightly in my hand from last night. I waited ten seconds then dragged myself out of the bed. Mirka knocked again. "I'm getting dressed," I grumbled loud enough for her to hear. I walked over to the dresser and set the page on top before I started to open the drawers. I found the training outfit quickly, the second drawer was filled with the same outfit over and over. It was a solid black short sleeve shirt. Each sleeve had one solid strip of dark red down the middle. The shorts were also solid black and with a solid strip of dark red down both legs. A large number 6 was on the back of the shirt and the left sleeve. The material was interesting and made it easy to move and flex in every direction. I went to the bathroom mirror and pulled my short thick hair up however it would stay. By time I reached the door Mirka was on the other side tapping her toes and waiting impatiently.

"You're late!" She snapped at me.

"Good morning," I said sarcastically. "Where's breakfast?" The table was empty.

"You missed breakfast. Lincoln said to let you sleep through half of it but when I went to wake you up you took far too long. I had the Avoxes take it all away. Axl is already headed downstairs to the training center. Come on, come on, you need to hurry. Training starts in five minutes." Mirka had practically pushed me through the suite and out the door toward the elevator. "The training center is in the underground floor. Hurry up now." Mirka pressed the button for me then watched me anxiously as the door closed.

I was alone in the elevator. It was dead quiet and I felt uncomfortable. I crossed my arms and looked around the small elevator. The buttons lit up as I passed the floors. Floor Five. Floor Four. Floor Three. Floor Two. The elevator stopped. I pressed the button that said Training Center again but the doors opened. Standing there was the two tributes from District Two. They stepped into the elevator and acted like they didn't see me. The girl pressed the button to the Training Center despite it already being lit up to go there. I took a step back, giving myself room to breathe. These two were intense looking. They wore matching outfits to mine, but their muscles bulged under the sleeves.

Suddenly I remembered what Lincoln had said on the train. _"Let them think you've got some sort of hidden talent, make them afraid of you."_ How could they be afraid of me if I was cowering in the corner of the elevator. I pushed back my fear and stepped up beside the girl and held out my hand.

"I'm Castilla, District Six." I tried to sound confident.

The girl scanned me with her dark eyes. She had her black hair swept across her face, giving her an edgy look. She didn't take my hand but said smoothly, "District Six? You're the one who tried to kill you District partner during the parade? No?"

I dropped my hand. "Not kill," I said.

"Too bad. That'd be two less tributes we'd have to worry about, wouldn't it Saxon?" She chuckled dryly.

Saxon smirked as he eyed me, trying to figure out what my plan was confronting them both. He looked back at the girl. "I don't think we have to worry about them anyway, Kimber."

"Sorry?" I snapped. "What's that?"

The elevator stopped, we were at the training center. Saxon smirked and left the elevator as soon as the doors opened. Kimber followed right behind. I crossed my arms and followed them. The clock on the wall read a minute till ten o'clock. Heads turned as the three of us entered the room.

"Cutting it close Two and Six," A stern looking man had said to us. "Gather around everyone, we need to talk about the all the rules for training."

* * *

After a very long lesson on the rules of training and all the different stations we were turned loose. Twenty-four tributes scattered. Districts One, Two, and Four went straight for the Weapons Station. Districts Ten, Eleven, and Twelve went toward Survival. The other tributes from the other districts split out to them all. I scanned the room for Axl and spotted him in the Defense Station. I didn't move. I didn't want to talk to Axl, but I didn't want to talk to anyone else in the Training Center either. Against my better judgment I went to join him.

Axl was holding a shield and frowning down at it.

"That's new," I said as I approached Axl. I didn't want to talk about anything other than training. "I don't remember seeing any shields in any of the games before."

"I think they used them at the start of the games. Maybe the first two or three. I remember reading about it in school."

"Wow, you actually read something at school?" I asked, then I mentally kicked myself for bringing up home. Axl shrugged and heaved the shield up so it was covering his torso.

"I guess they're changing some things for the Quarter Quell," he said. "Maybe they'll actually make it easier for us to live."

"That sounds very unlikely," I grumbled as I walked over and picked up what looked like a large stick. It was made of wood but it was sleek and clean. It was only a bit longer than my arm. I held it out in front of me and and spun it around. Off to my left the sound of metal on metal made me jump. I spun and saw the male from District One sword fighting with a trainer. The other Careers and few curious tributes from other Districts stood around watching them.

Axl had looked up at them too. Then looked over at the stick I was holding before setting the shield down and picking one up a stick of his own.

"Here, fight me with that. We'll copy their movements," Axl said. I nodded and held my stick up before glancing back over at the sword fighting. They were almost too fast to see their movements properly. I copied their stance and Axl did the same. Then we each pushed our sticks forward with as much force as we could. They crashed into each other. My wrist suddenly hurt from the impact and I grimaced.

"Stop!" Someone shouted. Axl and I stopped and looked over to see a woman rushing toward us. "Where you not listening? You can not fight each other before the games. _Put those down_."

Around us other tributes looked over at us curiously and I saw the Careers whispering and chuckling to each other. There it was, those whispers and looks. Just like the ones I had got back in District Six. Axl set his stick down but I hadn't been listening to the trainer. I had been watching the Careers as they went back to their training, still talking amongst themselves about me.

"I said put it down," The woman warned.

"Oh, sorry," I muttered. I sat the stick down. "We weren't fighting, we were training. Isn't that what we're suppose to do?"

"You can spare with any trainer but not each other. Would one of you like to practice with me using the batons."

"Those are called batons?" I asked.

"They are," The woman nodded. "Have you had any experience using one before?"

"When would we have had the chance to fight with batons?" Axl asked sarcastically.

"We get many tributes through here who have never had experience with these types of tools before. The baton is actually an excellent tool to start with."

"Can you show us how to kill someone with one?" Axl asked.

I spoke before the woman got a chance too. "I assume you have to hit their skull very, very hard with it."

"Batons are mainly used for defense." The woman intervened before Axl and I could say anything else. "The wood is made very tough and can stop a sword. You can fight with them of course, but think of them as a shield more than a weapon." She pointed to Axl. "Pick yours back up. Let me show you." She took mine while Axl picked his up. She helped Axl hold it out in front of his face. "No, brace yourself, keep your elbows locked in place." She swung her baton up and brought it down. She wasn't fast or hard, but she hit Axl's with it just enough to make him bring his arms inwards a bit, but the baton had stopped the trainers from hitting his face.

She let Axl brace himself again then brought the baton down a bit harder. Axl had been prepared and the wood on wood echoed around the station. I grinned, it was interesting to watch. It wouldn't seem like a silly stick could do much to help you in the games, but it had just kept Axl safe twice.

"Now you give it a go," the woman said to me. Axl passed me his baton and I took it. I held it out like Axl had and the woman swung without warning. I tried to brace myself but her baton swung into mine and my elbows bent. I panicked and pushed upwards, but it seemed to be the right thing to do because the baton stopped just a couple inches from my face.

"Hey, easy," Axl objected, "don't hurt her."

"I'm fine, Axl," I snapped. "Try it again," I said to the woman.

She nodded and swung the baton. I brought up mine quickly. I grinned to myself when I stopped hers. It was easy. Or I thought. Next thing I knew the woman's baton was coming from a different direction. I brought mine down hastily but was clumsy with it, and when the batons crashed together mine was ripped from my hands.

Laughter erupted from my left and I spun angrily to see three of the Careers watching me and laughing at me. I glared up at them and gritted my teeth. I was looking weak. I spun on my heel to look back at all the different shields hanging on the walls. I couldn't think about them, I had to keep focused on my training. "What's that one used for?" I asked as I pointed at a very small shield. "It doesn't look like it'd help shield much."

"It's a buckler," The woman answered. I walked over to it and took it off the wall. There was a small handle on the inside to wrap my fingers around. The buckler covered my fist. The woman continued to talk about it while I examined it. "It's light enough that you can easy move you hand around while fighting at close range. If you attacker has a blade and is trying to cut you with it, you can easily use the buckler to stop them."

I nodded. Axl spoke up, "Looks like you could easily bash someone's face in with it as well."

A whistle blew and all of us tributes turned to see what was happening. A new trainer had arrived and he walked over to the gauntlets in the middle of the room. He spoke loudly enough so everyone could hear. "If anyone would like to give these a try, step forward. I won't be here long I'm very busy today. So let's make this quick."

The Careers bounded over to the gauntlets. I glanced at Axl to see what he thought and he shrugged. I turned to watch as all the tributes slowly started to make their way to the gauntlets. The Careers lined up, ready to show off their skills.

"Let's go," I said to Axl. Axl and I each took a spot behind the boy and girl from District Eight. Other trainers came to stand around the gauntlets and they held paddled clubs. I watched them curiously. The boy from District Four was the first to step up on the gauntlets. A whistle blew and he started jumping from gauntlet to gauntlet easily. As he made it to the trainers they swung their clubs out at him, but they didn't faze him. He jumped over them easily like they hadn't even been there. The girl from Four did the same, then both from District One. It wasn't until District Two gave it a try that the girl, Kimber, got a bit tripped up by one of the clubs. She saved herself, but I could tell she was frustrated. The boy from District Twelve tried next. He fell off at the third gauntlet.

The Careers stood off to the side, clearly judging the rest of us. One by one tributes started to make their way across the gauntlets. Some of them made it, other's didn't. Before I knew it I was next. I climbed up onto the first gauntlet and examined the gauntlets ahead of me, I had just watched sixteen other tributes do these, so I had a good idea of how I needed to step.

The first jump had been the hardest, because I had no momentum. But by the second one I was pushing off it easily. My next gauntlet had a trainer at it, and he stung his club at my feet as I landed. I doubled jump, throwing off my rhythm. I landed clumsily on the next and when I jumped again another club swung at my feet. It caught my ankle and I was spun sideways. I missed the next gauntlet and landed hard on my stomach and hands. Luckily I protected my face.

My chest hurt from the impact and it took me a moment to catch my breath.

"Get up!" Someone shouted at me. My guess was a Career. I pushed myself onto my hand and knees and almost crawled away, but I stopped forced myself onto my feet. I wasn't crawling away, I'd walk away like it didn't faze me. I probably didn't look too convening, but at least I was on my feet.

Axl was next, and I was surprised by how well he did. Like Kimber, a club hit his foot, but he didn't let it get the better of him and he steadied himself as he made it to the end. I turned to see what the Careers thought, a couple of them were nodding and whispering to each other, sizing Axl up like they had everyone else who made it to the end.

I was hoping to have another try, but the trainer in charge of the gauntlets left when the last tribute had his try. There was nothing stopping us from going again, but the trainers with the paddles went back to their own stations.

I was starting to get tired, but reminded myself that I'd probably be tired through the next couple weeks. There was no resting in the games, even if it wasn't tributes threatening your life. If things got too comfortable for us the Capitol wouldn't have a good show, so that meant the Gamemakers had to make it interesting.

"Want to go back to the shields?" Axl asked. "All the other stations have someone at them... unless you wanted to talk to other tributes."

"No," I said a bit too quickly. I didn't want to talk to the other tributes. I didn't even want to be talking to Axl, but I needed someone on my side, even if I wasn't sure I could trust him one hundred percent. At least I knew not to trust Axl, at least I knew what he was capable of.

Axl and I walked back over to the Defense Station. The woman who had been with us earlier was nowhere in sight. Back over at the Weapons Station some of the Careers were spearing dummies and impelling them with knives. I frowned and looked back at all the "tools" (as the trainer woman had called them) for defense. At least five different shields hung on the wall, there were a couple different types of batons, and then there were was a bin full of sturdy ropes.

"What do you think these are for?" I asked Axl as I pulled some of the ropes up out of the bin to show him. Axl walked over and took a single rope out. It was only three feet long.

He frowned at it. "No clue."

"You weave it together." A voice behind us said. Axl and I spun around to find the boy from District Ten.

"What?" I asked.

"You weave it together," Ten repeated, "We do it all the time back in my District. You can make it into a sort of armor; and trust me it works."

"It's just rope," Axl scoffed.

"I'm not saying it'll stop arrows or knives, but if someone was punching your or kicking you they wouldn't be able to do much damage. I took a goats horns to the stomach wearing some of that and the rope absorbed most of the impact," Ten said. "I'm Leo, by the way." He held his hand out for us to shake. I had a bit of deja vu from the elevator, except now I was on the other side of the hand, and I saw why Saxon and Kimber didn't shake my hand. I didn't want to shake Leo's.

Luckily Axl stepped forward and shook his hand. "I'm Axl and this is Cas... uh, Castilla."

I nodded to Leo but didn't step forward to shake his hand, I didn't want him to get too friendly. I wanted him to leave. Axl seemed to be thinking the opposite though.

"Could you show us how to weave it together?" Axl asked.

Leo grinned, he seemed to be happy to be helping. He set to work showing us how to weave the ropes together and how to shape it so it's slip over our shoulders. I had to admit it could be helpful... but only if I was lucky enough to find enough rope in the arena.

Finally the lunch bell rang and all of us were forced to make our way to the cafeteria. We had two options of food. Mushroom Soup or Lamb. I went for the soup, I didn't think my stomach could handle the lamb. There was also unlimited fruits and vegetables. I took a banana, because I had always been told they are good for your health and strength, and I could use all the help in those categories that I could get.

Axl and I found a table to ourselves. I groaned when the Careers took a table two over from ours and right in my view. I kept my head down and pushed the mushrooms around with my spoon. Axl and I stayed silent for a long time.

"Oh, I forgot." Axl suddenly said, startling me a bit. He reached into his pocket and pulled out six or seven playing cards. "The pockets are a bit tight I couldn't bring them all."

A couple of the corners had been bent, but overall the cards still looked brand new. They were perfect for throwing. I picked one up and passed it between my fingers while thinking about the best way to throw it so it'd make it over to the Careers. I held the card and stretched my arm around, relaxing and getting angles. Finally I figured out how I needed to throw it.

I bent my arm and brought the card close to my chest. Then quickly I straightened my arm and snapped my wrist. The card went soaring and it went better than I could have ever hoped for. It zoomed between the heads of the girls from One and Four and a corner spun right into Saxon's collar bone. There was a stunned silence as all the Careers stopped talking to look at the card now laying on Saxon's tray of food. Saxon glanced down at his collar bone before all the Careers looked around to see where it had came from.

I was already prepared. I had another card in my hand passing it casually between my fingers. I kept eye contact with Saxon because by luck the card had hit him. But he didn't have to know it was luck. He fixed me with a look I couldn't quite figure out, but some of the other Careers gave approving nods. I had impressed them.

"Nice," Axl whispered. The boy from One finally broke Saxon's attention away from me as the Career table started talking again.

"Yeah, that was luck. I was just hoping it'd make it too their table."

"They're impressed. That looked completely intentional," Axl told me.

I grinned to myself, at least the Careers thought I could do something now.

* * *

 **AN: I'm finally to the training! I hope it didn't take too long. I decided to do something a bit different, because it's a Quarter Quell I've decided to add a Defense Station with shields and such. This chapter was getting pretty long so there will be another chapter to finish up day 1 of training!**

 **Thank you so much for reading, following, favoring, and reviewing!**


	9. Snare Making

After lunch Axl and I found ourselves at the Survival Station. Both tributes from District Eleven were making fires. Districts Twelve and Eight seemed to be working together to build a shelter. No one even looked up at me and Axl, and I wasn't about to give them reason too. I pulled Axl away from the other tributes in the Survival Station and found the corner of it designed for snare making.

"Snares?" Axl chuckled. He was acting like I was being stupid for coming here.

"Well we'll need to eat," I pointed out. I bent down and studied the already constructed snare. "Help me figure out how this was already put together."

Axl and I studied the snare for several minutes, then we collected the materials we needed to make our own. Axl took a small knife and started to sharpen a stick while I wrapped twine around the base of the snare.

While we worked we stayed quiet. I listened to all the noise around me. The Careers were still in the Weapons Station, and the sound of arrows impelling a dummy were echoing through the Training Center.

Two or three tributes went back at the gauntlets. They had been encouraging each other, saying things like "You've got it this time." or "Shift your weight to the right." Then someone would fall and they'd encourage that person to get back up and try again.

I couldn't help but think it was all stupid. It was stupid trying to help or encourage someone else. It was stupid making friends. I wouldn't deny allies were useful, but friends would make you weaker. I was only working with Axl because unfortunately I already knew him, but he was just an ally, nothing more.

I looked back down at my snare. Axl bent down and helped me tie the sharpened stick onto the snare then pulled it back into place. I set in the prop and we sat back to examine it.

"It looks alright," Axl said hopefully. "It's not exactly like the original, but it's close."

"Close might not work," I said. I picked up another stick and tripped the snare. Part of it snapped and the sharpened stick that is made to kill the animal falls off. "See," I snapped, "we have to build it again."

"Why are you so angry?" Axl snapped back at me.

"I hate this."

"Snare making?"

"No, all of this," I turned and looked over at the tributes studying plants, "We're all going to be dead soon, so why are they bothering getting to know each other?"

"Get over it, don't let it distract you," Axl said.

I hated to admit it but Axl was right. I tried to ignore everything around me and tried to stayed focused on the snare I was making. Why had it broken the first time? I studied the original snare again, and realized I hadn't tied two of the sticks together properly. I needed to pull the twine around the back at least three times. I got back to work, starting completely over with new materials. I tuned everything around me out and focused only on the snare.

After twenty minutes I had a snare that looked exactly like the original. I grinned to myself and picked up a stick to trip the snare. Axl stood off to the side and watched. I pushed the stick into the base of the snare and it snapped forward. It didn't break this time!

"Not bad," Axl commented.

"Now your turn," I said to him as I reset my snare and nodded toward the materials to make a new one.

Axl frowned down at the sticks and twine.

I huffed, "Just do it, you need to know how."

Axl set to work, he'd occasionally ask me for help or tips. After a very long thirty minutes, he had a completed snare. He stuck a stick inside and the sharp stick snapped forward. Axl grinned, "I actually did it." He sounded surprised.

"Should we try starting a fire?" I asked, turning to see that only one tribute was at the fire station, giving us plenty of room to try starting our own.

As we started to walk toward the fire station shouting erupted across the center. We jog quickly out of the Survival Station to see what was happening. Kimber and the girl from Four were fighting. Kimber was on the ground, the girl from Four on top of her. Kimber swung her fist as the girl from Four wrapped her hands in Kimber's dark hair and slammed Kimber's head into the ground. The Head Trainer ripped the girl off of Kimber, but the shouting never stopped.

"I'm going to kill you!" Kimber shrieked as the girl from Four was dragged away. "You're dead! You hear me? _Dead!_ "

The other Careers just stood around grinning. They clearly enjoyed the fighting. Kimber stood up, holding the back of her head and wincing slightly. "You're dead!" She screamed at the door the girl had been taken through.

"What do you think happened?" Axl asked excitedly.

I shrugged. "She touched her favorite arrow? Who knows. Put enough trained killers in a room together and fights are bound to break out."

With the girl from Four dragged out of the room by the Lead Trainer another Trainer stepped forward. "That's enough for today. Everyone please head back upstairs to your suites. Training will start tomorrow at ten o'clock. Remember, there is no fighting between the tributes. Save that for the arena."

Everyone started to put away their weapons and tools, but because Axl and I didn't have anything we jogged to the elevator to beat everyone else there. Once inside Axl pressed the button for Floor Six and I jammed my thumb into the button to close to the doors, cutting off the other two tributes who were making their way to the elevator.

Once the elevator started to move Axl spoke. "What do you think will happen to them? For fighting I mean."

I shrugged, I didn't really care. By any luck they'd now have some sort of disadvantage in the games, making the games easier for me.

* * *

Back in our suite Axl and I each took a shower before everyone gathered in the sitting room. Lincoln was interested in hearing how our first day of training went. When we told him we mainly worked in the Defense Station, and a bit at Survival after lunch, he didn't seem too impressed; but he nodded and said it was a good start before suggesting what we should do tomorrow, which included training with weapons.

"I went down the the Square today," Mirka told us, "people are already betting on winners! It's so exciting!"

"Where are we ranked?" Axl asked.

"Don't worry about that," Lincoln told us.

I scowled at him, "Why? Because we're at the bottom?"

"Because until the training scores come out, the rankings don't actually mean anything," Lincoln said.

"We're at the bottom," I repeated.

"You aren't at the bottom," Mirka pipped up. Lincoln had shot her a warning look.

I knew we couldn't be at the top. Districts One and Two always filled the top four spots, but maybe we were near the middle. Tributes in the middle always got at least one sponsor gift through the games. Then again, those rankings always change after Training Scores are relieved; and I didn't have anything too impressive to show the Gamemakers.

"Cas threw a card at the Careers and completely shocked them, it was brilliant!" Axl informed Lincoln, Mirka, and his stylist Tinka. Tinka was with us because she wanted to check on Axl's nose to see it was healing correctly before the interviews. She had him sitting in a chair while she pocked at it and prodded it, making him wince.

Lincoln frowned. "Is 'card' code for something?"

I pulled a playing card out of my pocket and flicked it across the room at Mirka. She shrieked slightly as it landed in her lap. I grinned to myself, those cards were amazing. Lincoln nodded and looked impressed. "Can you do that with knives?" He asked.

"Sort off, but I've only practiced with kitchen knives."

"Well get a hold of the knives in the training center, alright. See what you can do with them."

I nodded and flicked another card across the room. I was dreading tomorrow. I knew I needed to start training with the weapons, but I was positive I'd suck with all of them. I'd wasted an entire day of training, and now I had a lot of catching up to do. We only had a day and a half left of training before we had to show our skills to the Gamemakers. I didn't even know what I wanted to show them.

* * *

 **AN: Day 1 of training is over!** **I had to go a bit typical with the District Two careers being big and scary, but in the next chapter I'll be introducing some of the tributes from the outer districts.**

 **Thank you XxXFangirlonlineXxX for the reviews!** **I'd like to give a big thank you to those who are reading and following as well! It means a lot to me!**

 **Are there any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes that I keep making? Also what do you think about Cas and Axl 'wasting' their first day of training?**


	10. He'll Hold You Back

I woke up early for the second day of training, so earlier that lights were still on in the city because they sun hadn't risen yet. I wasn't going to go back to sleep, so instead I went to the window to watch the city come to life. Down below I could still see the ranking board, and I wondered exactly what people thought my chances were. But because Lincoln seemed determined not to tell us I'd never know.

I left my room and went to the sitting room and decided to see what was on the TV. Maybe they'd be talking about the rankings? I pulled my feet up onto the couch to get comfortable and picked up the flat digital remote. I clicked several buttons, trying to figure out how to make it work, but I could only pull up a menu that had listings of previous Hunger Games. I scowled down at the remote, it was too advanced. I'm sure the tributes from Three knew how to work it, their district made electronics like this, but I was lost.

I jammed my finger onto the button that said 'LIVE' but the TV simply flickered and went back to a black screen. I pressed the button that said 'CHANNELS' and then pressed every combination of numbers I could think of, but it'd only go to static or a message would come on the screen reading _'invalid'._

I finally got so fed up with the stupid remote I threw it across the room. It hit the wall and the thin back cover broke off. That only made me feel a bit better.

"You ok?" Lincoln asked as he made his way around to couch to sit down beside me. He was holding a mug of tea and looked completely awful.

"I just wanted to watch something but couldn't get anything to work," I grumbled. "How long have you been standing there watching me?"

"A couple minutes," he chuckled dryly, "I've mastered sneaking around."

"I've always been pretty good at that too," I admitted, "I'm sure you've heard the stories."

Lincoln stared down into his tea and tapped his finger on the rim of his mug, clearly thinking hard. "It wasn't you, was it." He finally said. I could tell it wasn't a question, not really. He knew.

"Axl took the food," I said, "I was trying to put it back."

Lincoln continued to stare down at his tea, his eyes had dark circles around them, and not because he had just woken up. Finally he took a sip of the tea before setting it down on the coffee table. He still wouldn't look at me but said, "Don't ally with Axl, he'll hold you back."

I studied Lincoln for a moment, trying to work out what he was saying. "Aren't you suppose to be his mentor too?" I finally asked.

"I'll give Axl the advice he needs and you the advice you need. And you need to not work with him."

"I need someone though," I admitted, "and I'm not to keen on getting to know anyone else."

Lincoln sighed and picked his tea back up and downed half of it before finally looking at me. "Don't screw this up because you're too damn afraid of getting close to someone again only to lose them. You're going to lose people in life. It sucks, I know. It's the worst thing to possibly happen. But it's going to happen. Don't deny that it won't. You have a family, right? Would you rather them lose you or for you to lose someone you've only known for a week? I actually believe you have a chance at winning this, Cas; but you need to believe it too or it's not going to happen. You _have_ to start putting in the effort it takes or you're going to be dead on day one! And... and I need you to win, ok? I need this. The past four years... they've been rough. _Really_ rough. I might sound like damn hypocrite but I'm sick of losing people, alright? Don't screw this up, Cas."

"I am trying," I said, "believe me, I am. I just don't know how to do any of this."

"No one really does," Lincoln said before finishing his tea. He suddenly frowned and looked around. "Is it colder in here?"

"Yes," I said.

"I was having trouble sleeping, I probably turned the air down and don't even remember doing so."

"Are you still in withdrawals?"

"Not really," Lincoln said. I frowned, he looked really awful, if it wasn't withdrawals it had to be the stress of the Games.

Behind us the sound of plates rattling carried into the sitting room. We both turned to see the pale Avox setting the table. He nodded politely to us before continuing with his work.

"I guess that means it's time for breakfast," Lincoln said before standing up and heading back toward his bedroom, he paused before disappearing out of sight. "Mirka freaks out if we try to eat breakfast in our pajamas." He informed me. I looked down at my own pajamas and frowned, I was comfortable, but I stood up and went back to my room.

I changed into the training outfit and put on the thin black jacket that was provided with it because the suite was a bit colder that than it had been the past couple days... Couple days? Had I really only been in the Capitol a couple days? It felt like weeks.

I made my way back into the dining area where the pale Avox was still setting the table while the female Avox set out the food. I wondered what their names were, but I knew they wouldn't be able to tell me. My stylist, Hawk, entered the suite. His suite, along with his prep-team, Tinka, and her prep-team, was located just across the small hallway on the other side of the elevator. But being they were allowed to come and go in our suite as they pleased it was basically one big apartment.

"Castilla! So lovely to see you this morning!" Hawk beamed at me. He walked over to me and gave me a hug. It was awkward because I didn't hug back, but he didn't seem to mind. "I have great news for you!" He said as he pulled away from me.

"Great news?" I asked.

"I've found a way you won't have to wear heels for the interviews!" He said excitedly.

"Oh," I said, half laughing. Heels had been the least of my worries.

"I know you didn't like them on the Chariot, and I've designed the perfect dress that would go great with some amazing tie up flats! Oh it's going to be wonderful!" Hawk seemed so happy, so I smiled back and thanked him for thinking about my concerns. He hugged me again then went to sit down at the breakfast table.

"What was that all about?" Axl asked, startling me a bit because I hadn't realized he walked up behind me. He too was wearing the black jacket that matched our training outfit.

"Nothing," I said. The table was almost completely set and Tinka had let herself into the suite as well. She sat down across from Hawk at the table. "Let's eat," I said to Axl. I purposely sat down beside Hawk so Axl would have to sit across from me. I wanted the table between us for good measure when I delivered the news to him that I was no longer going to train with him.

It didn't take long for Lincoln and Mirka to join us at the table, and right after they did we are all too focused on eating to really acknowledge each other yet. I scooped some eggs onto my plate and helped myself to a bowl of cinnamon oatmeal. I'd had oatmeal before, it was always rather cheap and affordable back in District Six, but never did we get to add cinnamon. It was always very bland.

About halfway through eating, Axl finally spoke up. "Should we start in the weapons station today?" He asked. It took me a moment to realize he was talking directly to me. I glanced at Lincoln, wondering if now was the time to let Axl know I wasn't going to train with him anymore.

Lincoln gave me a look saying 'Just tell him now.'

I swallowed my oatmeal then glanced up at Axl. I hesitated. It wasn't that I felt bad for leaving him to train on his own; I didn't really care what he thought or felt. I was worried about his reaction.

"Axl," I said evenly, "Axl I don't think we should train together anymore." And then, finding my voice I said.m, "You'll only hold me back."

Axl's brows narrowed and he scowled in anger. He shot a glance at Lincoln to gauge his reaction to the news then looked back at me.

"I'll hold you back?" He scoffed. "Yeah, because I'm the weak link in this duo then?" He stood up and glowered down at me. "This would have been great to know yesterday, Cas. I wouldn't have wasted my time building stupid snares with a bitch like you. I'd have actually done something useful with my damn time."

"Language dear," Mirka said calmly while she continued to cut her sausage.

"I never said you had to work with me!" I shot back at Axl. "I wasn't too thrilled to be working with you in the first place. Then it finally dawned on me why. You're incapable of caring about anyone but yourself. And for all I know you'll slit my throat during the bloodbath!" I was yelling now.

Axl raised his voice to match mine, "Me slit your throat? Wow! Do you not remember what we just talked about two nights ago? You really are selfish." He stormed off, leaving the rest of us in heavy silence. That is until Mirka pipped up.

"That boys is so confusing. Sometimes he seems like he wants to help you, and other times it seems like he hates you." She sounded like she was commenting on characters in a book. I didn't even think she always saw us as real people, sometimes we were simply entertainment for her.

I gave her a look and hoped with every fiber in my body that she interpreted it as saying 'You're an idiot' because I simply couldn't find the words at that moment. I wanted to tell her it had always been like that. Axl would go from being caring and nice to explosive in seconds. He couldn't handle being put in his place. If he was wrong he'd defend his point to no end even if he knew he was wrong. If he screwed up he couldn't admit it, he'd dump the blame on someone else with no regrets.

Hawk spoke up, "Don't let his outburst upset you."

I realized he said this because I had my hand clinched tightly around my spoon and it was shaking slightly from anger. I released my grip on the spoon.

"I'm not upset," I assured Hawk, "I was expecting worse actually." I stood up. "I'm going to go down to the training center."

"It's only nine thirty," Mirka said.

"Yeah well I'm suppose to be making friends." I shot a harsh look a Lincoln. The outburst at breakfast had been partly his fault. "So I need to see who's there and ready to train so I know who to ally with." It was a lie, I had no intentions of getting to know anyone. I'd just observe.

* * *

Once off the elevator I marched into the Training Center. About half of the tributes were already there. We weren't allowed to start training yet, so everyone was hovered around and talking quietly to each other.

Leo, the boy from District Ten who helped me and Axl weave the ropes into a sort of armor, stood with both of the frail District Twelve tributes. I glanced around for his District partner and spotted the number Ten on the back of a jacket that matched mine.

She was talking to both tributes from District One. They seemed to be studying her while she talked. She stood very still the entire time, with her hands jammed into her jacket pocket and her shoulders slumped. I couldn't see her face, but for some reason I got an eerie feeling she was talking eagerly about something despite her odd posture.

I glanced around the Center again and spotted the girl from Four sitting on a gauntlet. She was scanning the crowd. She must have been kicked out of the Career alliance for whatever her fight was about yesterday. Her gaze fell on the tributes from District One. She didn't look sad, or angry, or even resentful as she looked at them. She just had an expression that read she didn't care about them.

I decided to approach her before I fully thought my plan over. I wasn't even sure what happened. One moment I was by the doors to the Center and the next I was at the gauntlets standing no more than five feet from her.

She glanced down at me. "Six," she said curiously, "I was wondering who'd approach me first wanting to be in an alliance. I actually considered it might be you."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you clearly don't like your District partner and I didn't like my last alliance I was forced into. It was only a matter of time before you ditched you partner as well, and I felt you'd gravitate toward me." She leaned far over the gap between the gauntlets effortlessly and patted the gauntlet beside her. I hesitated a moment then sucked in a deep breathe and hoisted myself up onto it. I turned so I could cross my legs but still see her and the crowd of tributes. I didn't want my back toward any of them.

"I'm Nema. You're Cassidy?"

"Castilla," I corrected her, "Cas."

"Cas, right. Well listen, Cas. I'm actually not sure if I even want any allies."

"Same here," I shot back.

"I don't know who I can really trust."

"No one," I admitted.

"But I don't mind having someone I can share information with. I want to know things about the other tributes. Things that would be good to know once we're in the arena."

"Such as?" I asked.

"Weaknesses, strengths, who the crazies are."

"Crazies?" I frowned.

"Who's here because they like killing? Or who's here because this year their District took advantage of the voting and decided to weed out the troublemakers and criminals," Nema said. My stomach did a violent flip, and I was sure my face turned white. Luckily Nema didn't notice anything and kept talking. "I'd like to know the tributes who think they can win."

"Don't we all think that? Or at least hope it?" I dared ask.

"That's not what I mean." She nodded toward the girl from District Ten who was now walking away from the tributes from District One. "She thinks she's going to be a killing machine. She wants to be a killing machine. It's not about actually winning for her, it's all about the bloodshed. She came into these games willingly. She thought she'd get a spot on in the Career alliance because she wants to be here and wants to kill. She begged people to vote for her and send her into the games."

I got a chill just looking at the girl. She wanted to kill teenagers her own age? I finally looked away from her and back at Nema. "Didn't the Careers rally for votes though?" I asked. "Didn't you?"

"No. Not me. Maybe the others but I didn't. Did you?"

"No." Rather she believed me or not I'd never know. She was a very hard person to read.

"Well I told you about Ten. Who can you give me information on?" She asked bluntly.

I stared at her shocked. She just expected me to give her information just like that? I didn't actually have any information to give her, so I made something up quickly. "Do you know about the boy from Ten? Leo?"

"Only that he's built strong and does everything possible to avoid his crazy district partner. Why? What do you know about him?" Nema asked.

"He wants to help the weak links," I made up. It had been a good lie, a convincing lie. He was still talking to both of the tributes from Twelve. "He came over to me and my district partner yesterday because he thought we looked like we could use some help."

"What did he help you with?" Nema asked.

If she thought I was about to tell her what I had been doing during training yesterday she was wrong. I lied again, "He didn't actually know much, but he was trying to use the ropes over in the defense station to show us how to make a lasso."

"Interesting..." Nema said, scanning the crowd again and finding Leo.

"Your turn," I said. If she expected more information from me she'd have to tell me about the Careers. "What about her?" I nodded toward the District One girl.

"Porcelain Gowan, she's sixteen years old."

"Gowan?" I asked. Two years ago an Augustus Gowan won the Hunger Games at sixteen years old.

"Yep, Gowan. She's just like her brother. Good looking, determined. Deadly with a sword. They both started training when they were twelve."

"So her chances or winning are good then," I said mainly to myself, but Nema nodded in agreement.

Axl entered the Training Center then. He's eyes stopped on me just for a second before he turned away from me. He approached the boy from District Seven and the girl from District Nine and easily struck up a conversation with them. I watched them for a moment, curious what Axl was saying.

"You should go talk to them too," Nema said, nodding toward Axl and the other two tributes. "If you can figure out their strengths and weaknesses for me, I'll tell you anything you want to know about the Careers and those who approached them yesterday about joining."

Knowing the Careers weaknesses would be a major advantage in the games. But I was done with Axl; I wasn't going to approach him and the two other tributes he was now talking with. I was done with Axl. I didn't need him holding me back. I'd just have to spend the day training on my own and getting as much information out of the tributes as I could. I could talk to Nema tomorrow about them, and she could tell me who I really needed to watch out for, and possibly ways to beat them.

The Lead Trainer blew his whistle, signaling that it was ten o'clock and we were to start training. Nema jumped off the gauntlet without saying another word to me. I was alone and unsure where to go. The Weapons Station was filling up quickly, everyone wanted to train with the weapons today. I glanced around the Training Center and realized the entire survival station was left empty. An idea came to me. I suddenly knew exactly what I wanted to show the Gamemakers tomorrow; and now was the perfect time to start preparing for it.

* * *

 **AN: I had planned on having Cas talk to some of the tributes from the Outer Districts in this chapter but it was already getting pretty long. I know this chapter was a bit slow for a training chapter, but I promise the next chapter will have some action in it!**

 **Also I typed the second half of this chapter this morning before work and felt really good about it. I planned on coming home to proof read it before uploading it only to find it didn't save... and this version just doesn't feel as good as it did this morning. I felt like it flowed better this morning and I'm missing something I had before. So I'm pretty bummed about it.**


	11. Knife Practice

**AN: Thank you so much for the kind reviews!**

* * *

The sound of knives and swords slashing dummies started to fill the Training Center. There was a low murmur as trainers started to instruct the tributes who had never held a weapon before. I was completely alone and no one was even looking my way. The closest tribute too me was the young girl from District Five. She was in the Plant Identification Station, her eyes scanning over a large computer screen as she studied the plants. I made a mental note to go talk to her as soon as I was finished in the Survival Station.

I jogged over to the station quickly and started to look around. I needed small items. Matches, fish hooks, a water purifier. I found the matches quickly and put two packs of them in zip up pocket of the training jacket. The fish hooks were harder to hide, if I put them in my pocket they would have cut through the fabric. I planned on training with weapons, so I couldn't have any items that'd hurt me while I tried. I put the fishhooks back and found the small straw like water purifier. I slipped it into my pocket alongside the matches and grinned to myself. It was only two items for now, but I'd find more throughout the day.

I started to make my way to the girl from District Five when my eyes fell onto a small collapsible pair of night vision binoculars. I walked over to them and picked them up. They folded up nicely but were still too big to be carrying around in my pocket all day without anyone noticing. I set them back down, I'd have to take them as we were leaving the Training Center in the afternoon.

I turned my focus back to the girl from District Five. I needed to get as much information out of the other tributes as I could. I knew talking to the Careers myself was out of the question. They'd never give me the information I wanted to know. But now I could get it from Nema. It was a good plan on Nema's front. She knows the Careers and knows their strengths and weaknesses, but she needs to know about everyone else. It'd be harder for tributes to trust Nema, someone who was part of the career alliance, than to trust me. I realized as I got closer to the girl from Five that I was making the games easier for Nema as well, and that this wasn't just going to be an advantage for me but also for someone who already has a pretty big advantage giving her size and strength. But that didn't matter, because I had just found my in to knowing how to beat the Careers.

I made myself heard so the girl from Five would turn to look at me. Up close I'd guess she was about thirteen, which made me a bit upset. Her district willing sent a thirteen year old into The Hunger Games when they had to opportunity to not risk the life of someone so young this year.

We both stood in silence staring at each other for a moment, finally she spoke. "Hi, I'm just working on learning my plants." She paused a moment, clearly nervous. "Do you um... would you want to join me?"

I nodded and stepped forward to join her at the large computer. "How'd you learn to work this?" I chuckled as I pressed a random button.

The girl grinned and shrugged, "I just tried pressing a few buttons and eventually it started to show me the different types of berries."

"That's neat, it's always good to know about the berries in the arena." I tried to sound like I was interested. "I'm Castilla, by the way."

"I'm Lumen Fercie. I could show you the berries I've learned about."

"Yeah, that sounds great," I said to Lumen. She started to tap a couple buttons and pictures of berries came up on the large screen. "Lumen, how old are you?" I asked.

"Thirteen, but I'll be fourteen in three days."

"You're birthday is in three days? I'm sorry." I said. Lumen shrugged like it wasn't a big deal but I could tell she was sad about it. I sighed, "Were you expecting to be here? The reaping was different this year, so did you know it was going to be you?"

Lumen's hand hovered over a button for a moment too long, she was clearly thinking about something. She finally tapped the button and a picture of red berries filled the screen. I half expected her to ignore my question and to start talking about the berries, but she continued to look down at the buttons and spoke quietly.

"I caused a large fire two months ago. I was messing with some wires on one of the District Square's solar panels. I wanted to teach myself how the panels work, because if you can get a job working on the solar panels you make a lot of money. Kids never get to work on them, it's the type of job they don't just give anyone. It's a hard job. But I thought if I could teach myself I could show everyone how good I was at working on the panels and they'd give me the job anyway. I didn't realize I was working with a wire that feed directly to the main electrical feed; a fire started in the batteries stored down in the Justice Building. I didn't even know it and just continued to mess around with the wires on the solar panel. Eventually I smelled the smoke and heard the shouting. Someone spotted me with the panels and put two and two together."

I frowned down at her, I was sad for her and angry at District Five. She was just a kid trying to better her life. They're punishing her for starting a fire by sending her to her death? I wanted to tell her my District didn't like me either, but I knew I couldn't, I had to keep that a secret. I hadn't expected to get that much information out of her so easily. She was a kid and I shouldn't have taken advantage of her vulnerability, but I needed too. "Well, it sounds to me like you at least learned something useful about wiring. They've had arenas based on electricity before. I'm sure you know, isn't that the year District Five won?"

She nodded, "Yes, my mentor is Ellis Young. She won because she electrocuted six other tributes."

"Well you could do that, right? If the opportunity presented itself?"

Lumen shrugged, "Possibly. They start teaching us about about electrical currents at school when we're ten seeing as that's most likely the jobs we'll be working when we grow up."

"Well you already now more ways to win than I do," I told her. It was actually true. "Show me about the berries." I spent about thirty minutes with Lumen, she knew a lot about the berries and I actually learned a lot too. Finally I told her I was going to go train with the weapons. The station only had half the tributes there now. The Careers seemed to be taking a break, they were leaned against a wall watching as other tributes used the weapons. I scanned the area for someone I could talk too. I spotted the girl from Eleven using a curved blade. I approached her cautiously. Half way over to her I realized she'd never hear me approaching her, the noise in the weapons station was too loud.

It accorded to me that out of my seventeen years of life I've never figured out the proper way to initiate a conversation with a stranger. I always ended up blurting out nonsense and hope they take the bait and carry the rest of the conversation for me.

I stopped short of the eighteen year old girl and spoke loud enough that I hoped she heard me. "You're pretty good at that."

She turned and studied me for a moment before scoffing and going back to slicing with the dummy in front of her with the large curved blade. I frowned, wondering what else I could say. I remembered her reaping, she had beat up on a couple peacekeepers. "That was really awesome, what you did at the reaping." I realized instantly that was the wrong thing to say. She turned back to me in half a second, brandishing the blade as she glared at me. I took a couple steps back for safe measure and fumbled over my words. "I just... I mean... we all should have done what you did... it was-"

She spoke over me, "Embarrassing! The worse part was I had no clue anyone was even voting for me! I thought it'd be that bitch Caroline Crabapple, but no it was me! Everyone thinks I froze from fright. I just didn't want to move because of how screwed up the entire reaping was this year. I'm eighteen! I was almost free of worrying about this crap. And those bitches at work decided to vote for me all because I steal their business?" She spun around angrily and sliced the head off the dummy. I walked away hastily. She wasn't a good tribute to try and talk too.

I decided to go to the knives. I did need to practice with them. There were small knives, no bigger than my palm. I liked the size, they were similar to playing cards in that way. Naturally they were heavier, but I could hold them easily. I tested the weights and angles for throwing them. Targets were set up adjacent to the knives. A trainer hovered around me, curious how I'd do. I relaxed my shoulders and took a deep breathe.

"Here goes nothing," I said to myself. I threw the knife. I had guessed the force behind it correctly, it made it to the target, but it was too high and the blade didn't stick. The knife clattered on the floor. I grumbled and tried again, this time fixing my aim. The target had five colors. White on the very edge, black, blue, red, then yellow in the center. The knife stuck into the black. I grinned. I didn't do half bad for only my second throw. I picked up the next knife and tried standing at a different angle to adjust my aim. I took a steady breathe then threw the knife. Black again, but it was near the bottom. I frowned. What was I doing wrong?

Finally the trainer standing by me spoke up. "Don't throw it sideways, throw it over."

"Sorry?" I asked. I didn't understand what he meant.

"You're throwing the knives from your chest outwards, laying them flat. That works for some weapons but not these. These you have to throw from the side of your face and over hand, with them pointing up and down." He took a knife of his own and demonstrated how to throw it. I watched his hand movements carefully. His knife impelled the target in the red. Not exactly a perfect hit but much better than I had been doing.

I adjusted how I was holding the knife, but it was foreign to me. I'd been throwing the knives as I did the playing cards, this was entirely new to me. I brought my hand back by my ear, the knife held firmly in it. I tried to picture how the trainer had snapped his wrist, and as I brought my hand forward I tried to copy him best I could.

The knife crashed into the floor halfway to the target. Laughter erupted and I spun angrily to see that the Careers were still against the wall watching the other tributes; unfortunately they had been watching me and had seen my awful throw. I snatched up another knife and threw it the way I knew how. Blue! One step closer to a perfect hit. I turned back to them and glared at them. Kimber rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall. I watched as she picked up a bow and some arrows and walked toward me. I stood my ground even though I wanted to step away.

She casually pushed me aside, using her elbow to do so as she positioned herself in front of the target I had been using. "There's other targets," I said. She ignored me and pulled the arrow back in the bow. When she released it the arrow moved so quickly I barley saw it. It landed right in the center of the target. To show me it hadn't been luck she quickly shot another arrow and it landed right beside the first. She smirked at me as she walked away. I gritted my teeth and picked up another knife. I threw it my way again, not how the trainer instructed. It landed in the black again.

"Dammit!" I said loudly. The trainer seemed to have given up on actually training me, probably because I wasn't listening to his advice, but someone else spoke up behind me. It was a girl and her sleeve had a number Eight on it. She wound her hands tightly together like she was nervous.

"Try standing to the side," She suggested. She pointed to a spot on the floor then brought her hands together again. I took a couple steps over, not quite sure why she was suggesting it. "Now throw it again," she instructed. I frowned but listened, I had nothing to lose taking her advice. I threw the knife and it landed in the red. I grinned, it actually worked. She quickly handed me another knife so I could try it again. Red! I was only one color away from a perfect throw.

"Thanks," I said to her, "how'd you know that would work?"

"It was just a guess," she said. She looked very tired and I racked my brain for what her reaping had been like. Finally it clicked, she had looked homeless. Her clothes were dirty and torn at the reaping.

"Can you throw knives too?" I asked. She nodded and picked one up. I stepped away so she could throw it. Her throw was like how the trainer had instructed, and it landed in the blue.

"It's about all I'm good at," she said, "I suck at everything else. I've tried. I can make a fire, but those only get you so far."

"You can make a fire?" I asked. "You mean without matches?"

She nodded before looking hastily around like someone was following her. I frowned but ignored it. "What about your district partner?" I asked, "Are you two working together."

"I don't know," she said, "he's a trouble maker and no one likes him much. I'm not sure if I should."

I didn't know what to say to that, mainly because she was looking around hastily again and seemed to not care about me anymore. "Um, thanks," I said. But she was already walking away. "Weird," I said to myself. I glanced back up to were the Careers had been standing, they were gone now, no longer watching me. I walked back over to the table with knives, there were only a few left.

I could take one of these too; I realized. They were small enough, and as long as I stuck to throwing knives for the rest of the day having one in my pocket wouldn't get in the way. My only problem was the trainer, he was still watching me closely.

"What about the knives I've already thrown, can you get those back for me?" I asked.

"Why?" He asked, "You still have several there."

"I want to throw as many as I can in a minute," I made up. He huffed, like it was a major choir for him to retrieve the already thrown knives, but walked out toward the target. I quickly pocketed one of the knives, unzipping the pocket then zipping it back up before the trainer even reached the target. He pulled all the knives out, and the two arrows Kimber had shot, and walked back to me. He set the knives down on the table and stored the arrows up on the wall above them. "Thanks," I said to him. I pointed to a belt that had holders in it for the knives. "I can use that right."

"Yes," he answered like it had been a stupid question. I clipped the belt on and adjusted it to my size before sticking the knives down in it. "I'll time you if you want." The trainer said, "You said a minute, right?"

"Yes," I answered. He pulled out a stopwatch and set it.

"Ready? Go." The trainer said. I pulled a knife out quickly and threw it, I had the next knife out before that one even reached the target. I threw it but realized I was going to fast, my aim was way off, the knife didn't even stick into the target. I pulled out the third knife and steadied my throw. That one did better, hitting the blue. The minute went by quickly, and when the trainer called stop I had only thrown ten knives, but I had slowed down between each one, perfecting my aim each time. But it was going to be all about time in the games. I wouldn't have time to hesitate and fix my aim. I needed to be able to throw quickly and accurately, but right now those two things were not going hand and hand.

I spent the rest of the time before lunch working with the knives. Occasionally another tribute would join me, but I wouldn't talk to them. I needed to focus on the knives for now. I wasn't actually interesting in getting to know the other tributes. Nema would just have to be happy with the information I had gotten earlier. For now I needed to focus on my own strengths and not the strengths of the other tributes.

When the lunch bell rang my arm was sore from all the throwing, but it had been worth it. Somehow three of the knives had landed in the yellow. But five also laid on the floor around the target. I needed more practice after lunch.

Axl was hovering by the edge of the Weapons Station. I didn't have a choice, I had to walk by him. I keep my eyes forward and didn't look at him, but he reached out and took my wrist in his hand to stop me. I tried to snatch my hand away from him but he tightened his grip.

"Let go of me," I growled.

"Listen, I just wanted to let you know the Careers approached me earlier asking about you," Axl said, "I'm not sure if they're buying into you being a threat or not. They seemed to have their doubts." He let go of my wrist.

"Thanks, it's great to know they see me as an easy target," I said sarcastically. "Lincoln's plan isn't working at all."

"Just try to stay mysterious or something," Axl suggested.

A trainer snapped her fingers at us and pointed toward the cafeteria, we were the last two tributes in the Training Center. I walked away from Axl without saying anything else. I needed to do something, anything, to show them I wasn't weak. I needed to convince the other tributes, the Gamemakers, and the Capitol I wasn't just another bloodbath tribute. I had a pocket full of random items, but that was just part of convincing the Gamemakers, I needed something I could do today to convince the other tributes.

I was barley through the Cafeteria doors before Saxon and Kimber were approaching me.

"You're sitting with us today, Six." Saxon demand. I realized I didn't have a choice, so I followed them to the food line and wondered just what I was getting myself into.


	12. Not Good Enough

Once through the food line I started to grow nervous and could only hope I didn't show it. I took a seat next to the boy from Four. It didn't seem names were important to the Careers, but then again why should they be? All but one of us would be dead soon. Names didn't really matter. They knew each other names, but they didn't care to inform me or bother to learn mine.

"So Six, what's you're secret?" The boy from Four asked.

"My what?" I asked.

"Secret. Why are you here? Everyone knows you were prepared to have you name called. Ten's girl practically begged for the votes. She wants to be a Career." He scoffed. "So why did you come here?"

I will never understand why anyone willingly comes into these Games. But it seemed the Careers had it in their heads I did.

I shrugged casually, "I'm just more prepared than others in the District."

"Prepared how?" One's boy pressed.

"I just know how to do things," I said. I couldn't say too much. If I couldn't back up anything I say with solid proof I'd be the easy target. They had just seen I wasn't an expert with knives. I just had to make them think I was hiding something else.

Saxon pulled his arm up and displayed a large scar on his elbow. "See this? I got this from a double edge sword fighting my brother. He practically sliced through to the bone. I didn't even wince, practically a paper cut. See Six, we're prepared for everything that comes with the games. Everything."

I smirked, I was a little annoyed with his cockiness, but I wasn't giving in that easy. I was going to press back a bit. "So what you're saying is wounds don't scare you? A bit of pain here and there doesn't intimidate you?"

"Exactly, Six. See I knew you'd get it. Ten didn't get that. She thinks she'll be inflicting the pain, but she's not prepared to take it," Saxon said.

"And you don't think I am either?"

"No. I don't think you are." Saxon said.

"And why not?" I pressed, getting a bit angry at his assumptions about me.

"You try acting like you know what you doing, but we know you don't. You try acting like you've gotten your hands dirty, but we know you haven't. You're just a weak tribute from District Six who's trying to make the Capitol think you're special, but we all know you aren't. So stop acting," Saxon snarled.

I stood up so quickly my chair fell back and clattered loudly on the floor. Every tribute and trainer in the room turned to see what had happened. I turned my back to the table before pulling the back of my shirt up over my shoulders. There was a mixture of gasp and surprised yelps around the room. Some of it was from my sudden stripping while others were from the five long scars stretched all across my back.

I gave them five seconds to exam the scars. Five long seconds to put the pieces together of what they meant before I pulled my shirt back down.

I snatched up my tray without looking at any of them and went to sit with Axl. I don't know why I went to him, but I needed to get away from the Careers and I didn't want to sit with anyone I didn't know. Axl looked unfazed; but he watched me carefully.

"What the hell was that?" He asked quietly. Everyone was watching us. Everyone.

"They were saying I was a fake and I've never gotten my hands dirty. So I proved them wrong," I said quietly, not looking up from my food try at the eyes watching us.

Axl grinned, and without even looking over at the Career table he held one hand flipped them off before going back to his food like nothing had happened.

"Saxon thinks he's a bad-ass with one little scar." I scoffed before angrily shoving a bite of food into my mouth. "I win best scar competition, jackass."

"Some competition," Axl huffed. Mummers were starting up all around the cafeteria again and out of the corner of my eye I saw the girl from Ten approaching us.

"Why'd you get them?" She asked with a hint of admiration. "Did you hurt someone? Steal something? What?" The way she stared at me was creeping me out.

"How about I just show you in the arena," I snapped at her.

"Cas," Axl warned. "She's not Saxon, alright. Tone it down."

"No, she wants to be here. She wants to be one of them," I snapped at Axl. Then to the girl I said, "Why? Why do you want to be one of them? Do the Games just look fun to you or something? Why did you want people to vote for you? Why do you want to kill people?"

"I just want to be able to be myself for once," she said.

"What the hell does that mean?" Axl asked, unaware of the information I had gotten earlier that morning from Nema.

"I always get to slaughter pigs back home; but that's not enough. If I try killing a human back home the Peacekeepers would kill me; so I came here."

"Holy shit," Axl breathed while I just gaped at her. This was all too much to take in. What the hell was wrong with all of us this year? I stood up and left without even dumping my food tray. I heard Axl's chair scrap as he rushed to dump our food trays. I knew he'd try to catch up with me but I was practically jogging. I crossed the training center, took a quick detour into the survival station to swipe the night vision binoculars, and then went right to the elevator.

I jammed my thumb into the button that had the number Six. Axl slid hastily through the doors just as they were closing.

"This is all seriously screwed up," Axl said before the elevator even started moving.

"I don't want to know about the rest of them," I said, my voice shaking. "Are we all criminals? Are we all liars and thieves and criminals? Teenagers like us who steal or have drug addict fathers are the type of teenagers people are willing to sacrifice for the games. We're going against criminals and psychopaths and trained killers." I started crying, the tears just came and there was nothing I could do to stop them. "I can't do this, Axl. I can't keep this up. They think I'm a fake and I'm putting on an act and they are right, I am! I'm terrified. I don't want to be here. They do and I don't. I'm trying to act like none of this fazes me but it does. I can't keep it up."

"What happened to you?" Axl asked.

"What?"

"I always thought you were stronger than this." He gestured toward my crying and my cowering; he was calling me weak. Then he continued speaking without even giving me a chance to defend myself. "It's embarrassing, Cas. You're embarrassing."

Axl was making me angry. "Stop," I said sternly, but he ignored me.

"Why are you letting them-" he jammed his finger toward the closed elevator door, "intimidate you?" He jammed his finger into my chest.

I pushed his hand away from me. "Don't touch me," I said through clinched teeth.

"Get use to it!" He snapped. "Get use to people pushing you around." He shoved me roughly into the elevator wall.

I didn't even feel the impact. Anger pumped through me and I pushed myself off the wall and shoved him back, making him slam into the opposite wall.

He smirked, massaging his elbow that had a hard hit. "Better," he said, "you have to get it together and stop acting like you can't do any of this. Stop acting like you can't win."

"I never said I couldn't," I snapped, my heart still racing. I was waiting for him to shove me again, unsure of his intentions.

"You're acting like you can't."

"I don't even know if winning would be worth it," I admitted.

"What the hell does that mean?" He asked, finally relaxing his stance. I did too.

"I don't want to kill anyone, Axl. I don't want to live with that. I don't want to be like her, the girl from Ten."

"I never took you as someone who'd just roll over and die," Axl snarled.

"Look at Lincoln!" I shouted. "Look at how messed up he is! He killed a twelve year old kid, Axl! He can't even live with himself after everything he did in the arena. What kind of life is that? Is it worth it? Is it really worth it to be the Victor?"

"Yes!" Axl screamed at me. "Yes Cas, it is! It is for people like you! You're going to make it home to Ulric. You're going to make it home to your mom and grandfather. You're life is worth something, Cas. Mine isn't but yours is; and you're not givin' up this early!"

"I just don't want every day of my life to be the scariest day of my life," I said sternly. "I'm not as strong and confident as Lincoln wants me to come across. And it shows. I'm not fooling anyone; certainly not myself. I want them to think I can handle what's coming but I can't. I showed them my scars hoping to prove I'm not weak; but these scars don't mean I'm strong and dangerous and ready for what's coming. They just mean I got caught, that's it, there's nothing more too them."

"You're strong," Axl said, "Damn it, Cas, stop saying you aren't."

"Not nearly as strong as I need to be," I replied.

The elevator finally reached our floor, Axl held his hand in the open door to keep it from closing again but we didn't move. "Do you want to go back down and train?" He asked.

"No," I answered honestly. "You go though, I'll just..." I gestured toward our suite door, not really sure what to say, the fight was out of me. I stepped out of the elevator. Axl wasn't going to beg me to ride back down to the Training Center with him. He wasn't going to beg for me to keep trying.

The door closed and I was finally alone. I quietly went into the suite and slipped into my room.

I needed to hide the items I had stolen before anyone noticed them gone and came looking for them; but first I needed to use the binoculars. Even though they had a night vision option they should work during the day as well. I pulled them out of my pocket and stepped over to my window. I fiddled with them for a moment, trying to figure out how to adjust them, then I used them to look out the window to the square.

The board seemed much closer now, but it was blurry. I spun the dials on the side and the words started to come into focus.

There were twenty four names and numbers. I started at the top and read downwards. The Careers took the first six spots.

 _1 - Porcelain Gowan - D1_

 _2 - Saxon Greystone - D2_

 _3 - Kimber Graves - D2_

 _4 - Nema Waterman - D4_

 _5 - Dalton Justice - D1_

 _6 - Caine Boyce - D4_

It was nothing new, seeing the Careers fill the top spots. Only twice has a tribute from a non Career district make it into the top spots before the training scores were out. It was easy for the Capitol to bet on the Careers with blind faith that they'd do well. The past few years the Careers have been dominating the games, finally getting in the full swing of things and their training centers showing results.

I kept reading the board.

 _7 - Leo Cate - D10_

 _8 - Castilla Shan - D6_

I almost missed it. I read my name. I read the number Eight beside it, I read District Six, but I couldn't quite believe it was actually my name. I read it several times more. Taking it in. The Capitol was betting on me - Me! I wasn't last, I wasn't even in the second half. I was at number eight. I just needed to make sure my training score reflected that. I needed to make sure they still believed I was good enough to be that high on the ranking board.

I actually had a chance of getting sponsors!

I spun excitedly back toward the pile of things on my bed. I needed to hide them. I needed to impress the Gamemakers like I was impressing the Capitol citizens. I gathered the items and looked around the room. Nowhere seemed good enough. I looked up. The ceilings were high, making it hard to reach the light fixtures.

The lights on the ceilings were the best place to hide things. I had learned that back in District Six. There had been a teacher at the school who stool what little funding the school had for materials. Peacekeepers tore houses apart looking for the money. They came to the houses of every student who had been in the room the money had been kept in. That included my home. They ripped out drawers and pulled everything out of the cabinets. They threw books around the rooms, flipped over mattresses and pulled up any loose floorboards, the house had been destroyed. But one thing I took from that is they never looked up. They never touched the lights fixtures.

And those Peacekeepers were probably trained alongside the Peacekeepers here at the Training Center, meaning they wouldn't look up either.

Despite that, I still didn't want to hide the things in my room, it was too risky. I thought a moment, and an awful idea came to me.

Axl's room.

I gathered the binoculars, knife, water-purifier straw, and packs of matches and rushed them into Axl's room. I dropped them on his bed then look around for a way to reach the light fixture up on the high ceiling. I walked over to the dresser and started to pull it away from the wall, but it was much heavier than I imagined. It was made from an expensive wood that was heavy and thick.

I squeezed into the small gap I had made between the dresser and wall and pushed the dresser. It took at least ten minutes to move the dresser to the center of the room, and once I had it under the light fixture I sat down on the bed for a minute to relax. But I only gave myself a minute, I needed to keep working before anyone arrived back at the suite.

I shoved all the items in my pocket then carefully climbed onto the top of the dresser. On the top I slowly stood up, steadying myself as I went.

"This in insane," I said quietly to myself as I stood on my tiptoes and reached for the light. I was able to twist it off, but with every turn I felt unsteady. I gritted my teeth and got the light fixture out of the ceiling. Reaching as high as I could while still keeping my balance I put the items up in the small hole left from the light.

I quickly and carefully screwed the light fixture back into place and climbed off the dresser. My heart was racing but I felt good. I put the dresser back against the wall then went back to my own room.

This was going to work! I was going to impress the Gamemakers. I was going to impress the Capitol citizens. I was -

The door to my room burst open, and a furious Lincoln came marching in. I sat up quickly from my bed,

"Lincoln-" I started, but he cut me off.

"Do you mind telling me why you are up here in your room when there are still thirty damn minutes of training left!" He shouted a me.

"I didn't want to be there," I answered.

"No one wants to be there!" Lincoln shouted. "But you can't win if you don't train! I thought you said you were trying."

"I am trying!" I shouted back.

"This doesn't look like trying to me. What did you even do in training today?"

"I threw knives, and I did pretty good too."

"Pretty good is a long way from surviving, Cas. This isn't a time to take breaks and lay around all day. You should be down there right now practicing over and over."

"Stop telling me I'm not good enough," I huffed. "It's all I've been hearing all day. From the Careers, from myself... and now you."

Lincoln looked as frustrated as I felt. He sighed and pressed the palm of his hands into his eyes, probably fighting back a headache, before looking back at me and saying, "I didn't mean you aren't good enough, Cas. You're just screwing your chances up."

I wanted to tell Lincoln what I was planning, but it was risky. I trusted him, but I didn't want anyone to know about the stolen items I had hidden.

Lincoln took my silence for being upset and continued speaking, "Just practice hard tomorrow, ok? It's only a half day of training, so use it wisely."

"I will," I assured him. He nodded and left my room, closing the door behind him. I laid back down on my bed, feeling completely drained. Every day here felt longer than the last. How long would the days in the Arena feel? How exhausted and drained was I going to be for the next couple weeks?

I forced myself off the bed to take a shower. Something told me tonight was going to be a long night of no sleep.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for the reviews, jul312, XxXFangirlonlineXxX, So Long Ago, and cjborange!**

 **Updates might be a bit farther apart for awhile because work as been absolutely insane** **lately and I haven't had much time to write. Thank you so much for sticking around and still showing support.** **Also you should read** **The Fourth Quarter Quell by XxXFangirlonlineXxX. It's really unique and a great read, and updates are never too far apart!**


	13. Suite Search

That evening was long and awkward. Because we weren't training together Axl and Lincoln disappeared into a bedroom to talk strategy without me. I wasn't upset about that, I could care less what advice Lincoln gave Axl. I was more upset that I was left alone with Hawk and one of the stylist from his team. They insisted on using my "downtime" as a time to style and experiment with my hair. I only agreed to let them style my hair if they let me watch past Hunger Games while they worked.

So there I was sat in a dinning chair watching the 14th Annual Hunger Games while curlers and pins were being stuck in my hair by two very chatty stylist. Luckily Mirka was nowhere to be found, according to Hawk's assistant she was off having her hair dyed the new "fad" shade or orange.

I tuned out Hawk as he was talking about experimenting with an updo for the interviews and put all of my focus into studying the past Games. In the 14th Games the arena was swamplands. Nasty, dirty, thick swamplands with marshes and tall viney trees that barley let any sunlight through.

The mutts were interesting; and something I had just realized we're not given any advanced training for. As far back as I can remember from when I was forced to start watching the Games the mutts had been a bit different each year. Three years ago a new mutt, called Tracker Jackers, had been introduced. They seemed to be a Capitol favorite and were reused last year. Along with the Tracker Jackers last year the mutts included two headed water snakes that made it difficult for the tributes to stay near a pond for too long.

Lincolns games included Long Talon birds that attacked anything shiny, giving the Careers a major disadvantages as they couldn't use many of the weapons they had been training with before the games.

The games I was currently watching, The 14th, had alligator type mutts that hovered in the swamps and would only attacked if stepped on. The problem was the water was so thick the tributes couldn't see them well. Two tributes were killed by the alligators, and another lost her arm (she died a day later at the hands of another tribute). It was horrible to watch, and I found myself wincing a lot and wishing to turn away. But I had to remind myself I couldn't look away, I needed to see it, because I'd be seeing this stuff in person very soon. It wouldn't just be on a screen, it'd be in front of me, possibly happening too me. I couldn't look away.

I was fast forwarding to The Feast when there were three heavy knocks on the suite door. But the knocks were pointless; five peacekeepers let themselves in without any sort of response.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hawk asked the Peacekeeper.

Things moved quickly. One of the peacekeepers pulled me out of my chair and started to pat me down. I shouted in protest but it was of no use. Lincoln and Axl came rushing down the hallway to see what the commotion was. Axl was grabbed by a peacekeeper as well and given a pat down too. Two peacekeepers went straight for my and Axl's bedrooms while the other approached a very angry Lincoln.

"What is happening?" Lincoln demanded.

"Some objects have gone missing from the training center, including a knife. We're searching of everyone's apartments upon request of Head Gamemaker Quinton."

"She's clean." The Peacekeeper who had been conducting a very intrusive pat-down said. "I'll go search the kitchens."

"I'm afraid you'll have to be searched too," the leader of the Peacekeepers said to Lincoln.

"Me?" Lincoln scoffed. "I haven't been in the Training center."

"We have to make sure mentors aren't holding the items for their tributes."

Lincoln held his arms up. "Fine, search me. Neither of my tributes have anything to hide. Search the whole damn suite, I don't care."

"We plan too," the Lead Peacekeeper said as he started to search Lincoln.

The sound of cabinets openings and plates being moved around carried from the kitchen. The two Avoxes stood just outside the kitchen doorway with their heads down. I walked toward my bedroom and stopped in the doorway. The mattress to the bed was already flipped up and the bedside table had been moved sightly. The drawers, which held nothing because I had nothing to put in them, were pulled out.

Axl walked past me to go to his room. I anxiously watched him walk down the small hall. I couldn't keep looking down the hall for signs of trouble, that'd be too suspicious, so I made myself keep my eyes glued in my room, but I listened carefully for any signs of the items being found in Axl's room.

The Peacekeeper searching my room opened the bottom drawer to the dresser, saw it was empty, then pulled open the next drawer.

"Don't forget to dig through my underwear drawer," I said sarcastically. In response the Peacekeeper pulled the entire drawer out and dumped it on the floor. "Very mature." I muttered just loud enough that I knew he could hear me. He proceeded to dump all the drawers to the dresser out onto the floor.

I was glowering at him before suddenly being pulled into the hallway.

I started to shout in protest at whoever grabbed my arm and pulled me from the doorway, but I was stopped by the angry look on Lincoln's face.

"You didn't?" He hissed quietly so no one else would hear.

"Of course not!" I whispered harshly.

"You told me you were practicing with knives, if you took it they'll-"

"Did you violently yank Axl into the hallway and accuse him as well?" I interrupted.

"That's what you're worried about?" Lincoln asked quietly.

"Why should I be worried about anything else?" I questioned. "I didn't do anything wrong."

I could tell just by the skeptical look drawn across Lincolns face he knew deep down I took the items. But he seemed to be giving up. Giving up on making me try harder, giving up on making me tell the truth, just plain giving up. And for some unknown reason to me it made me feel awful. I never cared much for what people thought of me. I'd always try to prove people right instead of wrong.

Stuck-up Judy Wheeler once said I was mean and violent. I'd never given her any reason to believe that. Viktor and Irsa were the bullies, not me. But because I was friends with them that meant Judy thought she had to right to say I was just like them. So I'd prove her right by tripping her in the hallway the next day or shoving her out of my way. If she wanted me to be violent then that's what I'd be to her.

But here was Lincoln, thinking I was innocent and determined and I was proving him wrong. I was skipping training and stealing things then lying about it. Lincoln thought I had a chance, he thought I was better than I was. I was only showing him how wrong he was. I couldn't tell him the truth, not now.

Lincoln looked like he was exhausted and crushed and just ready for the nightmare of another Hunger Games to be over. He walked away without saying anything else to me. I stepped back into my doorway to find the Peacekeeper had moved onto the bathroom and was digging around in the cabinet under the sink.

* * *

It took a solid hour for the Peacekeepers to tear apart the apartment, luckily they didn't even look up at the lights on the high ceilings. They left the Suite in a mess, and only one uttered a 'sorry for the inconvenience' as they left. During the hour Mirka had returned, her hair now an awful shade of orange, and complained the entire time about the mess. And now that the Peacekeepers were gone she was hysterical and practically yelling at the Avoxes to get to work and clean it all up.

"I've got my room," I assured the pale male Avox. He looked taken aback for a moment but nodded and moved down the hall toward Mirka's room, where she was complaining loudly about her clothes being thrown all about the room.

I sat cross legged in my floor and started to put the training outfits back into their proper drawers. I was filling the second drawer with Axl crouched down in front of me and started to help. We worked in silence, and it wasn't until Axl lifted the drawer off the floor to put it back into the dresser that he spoke.

"What do you think they'll do to the person who stole the knife?" He asked.

"You mean it wasn't you?" I asked as I folded a shirt and set it in the drawer still on the floor.

"No," Axl said defensively, "It wasn't you, was it?"

"No."

"Lincoln is dead set on it being one of us, and only one of us likes to hide things up there." Axl pointed a finger up to the light fixture in my room.

I glanced up at it and frowned. "How the hell would I reach that?" I picked up the drawer and slid it into place.

I wasn't prepared for a fight, and when I turned around Axl slammed me against the dresser, pinning my shoulder in place. I glared at him but didn't fight back.

"You fucking hid whatever the hell you stole in _my_ room. _My_ room. I saw it earlier today, Cas. Something slid down out of the ceiling into the light, you're _damn_ lucky the Peacekeeper didn't notice it or I'd be-"

"Publicly whipped for everyone to see?" I spat at him. He pulled my shoulder forward roughly then slammed me back into the dresser. I gritted my teeth against the pain and tried not to wince. He let go of my shoulder and left angrily without another word. I messaged my shoulder. Mirka came rushing in, having heard some of the commotion.

"What now?" She asked hysterically.

"Nothing," I muttered, dropping my hand from my shoulder. Axl wasn't going to tell anyone, if he wanted to he would have done so earlier and not even confronted me about it. He was just mad; mad that I was clearly planning something without him and mad that I risked his safety doing so. "Just stay out of it," I said harshly to Mirka. She looked offended but left.

I pushed Axl out of my thoughts and got to work putting my room back in order. I finished cleaning up the clothes, made my bed, and put everything in the bathroom back in place. By time I was finished I knew dinner was probably prepared and out on the tables. The Avoxes would have worked faster than I had at cleaning then would have quickly gotten dinner ready before Mirka could complain. But I wasn't hungry and didn't want to see Axl again until tomorrow, so I didn't leave my room.

I curled up on the bed without even getting under the blankets. I could faintly hear music, and assumed it came from Lincoln's bedroom. I closed my eyes and tried to make out the words, giving myself something else to focus on than the Games.

* * *

I woke up early the next morning. I don't know what time it was, the sun wasn't even up yet but lights from the city shone through my window. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes then realized something wasn't right. I looked around me and saw all the items I had stolen scattered around on my bed.

I sat up quickly, my heart racing. Right there by my right hand was the knife. By the left the binoculars. The water purifier was at my feet and the matches were all torn from their packs and scattered around my legs.

I climbed quickly off the bed and away from the items. If anyone were to walk in and see the stolen items on my bed my entire plan to impress the Gamemakers would be ruined.

I picked up the larger of the items and shoved them in a drawer then scooped up all the matches in my hands and stormed out of my room. I flung Axl's door open and marched over to his bed. I don't know if he was actually asleep or pretending but I shook him roughly awake, the moment his eyes opened I threw all the matches onto him.

"Screw you!" I shouted. "You give me some bullshit line about how my life is worth something and how I'm going to make it out of the Games but then you try to screw up my plan to impress the Gamemakers?"

Axl chuckled as he sat up and swatted away the matches. "What is your plan exactly?" He asked.

"Like I'd ever tell you," I snapped.

"My first thought was you were making something, but I tried to piece together what it could be with all of those random items and I just couldn't figure it out." Axl stood up and started to pace his room. "Then I thought maybe you were going to take all the items to the Private Session to show the Gamemakers what a good thief you are. That wouldn't work though considering where you hid them. How were you planning on getting them back out tomorrow without me or anyone else noticing? Now if your plan was to frame me-"

"I wasn't going to frame you," I interrupted.

Axl kept talking like I hadn't said anything, "-then I'm not sure how that helps improve your score. So I can't figure out what you were actually going to do with all of that."

"Why do you even care?" I asked. "We aren't training together, we aren't allies or friends or anything. What does it matter to you what I plan on doing?"

"Just leave," Axl said.

"What?"

"Leave," he repeated.

I left his room without any farther arguments. I barley made it out the door and had to stop. Lincoln stood just outside it listening to everything we had said.

"I'm sorry," I breathed. Lincoln looked crushed, and I felt awful. He knew I lied to him. I had let him down.

He shook his head then turned away from me, heading down the hallway toward his own room.

"Lincoln," I tried to call him back. But I knew it was pointless. He wouldn't listen to me, not now. I huffed and turned back down the hallway to my room.

I needed to stop letting emotions get in the way. I needed to put all of that aside and stay focused. I needed to stop worrying about Lincoln's feelings and start to worry about how I was going to win the Games. Back in District Six I was a criminal and didn't care if people called me so. Yet here I was, facing death at the hands of the Capitol, and I was considering playing by the rules all to spare one person's feelings.


	14. Private Session

I hid the stolen items around my room, putting them in semi-obvious places. My plan wasn't completely ruined, I just had to change it up a bit.

I changed into the training outfit but left the jacket in the room. They'd be watching us closely today, and even though jackets made a great place to hide stolen objects, they also made you look more suspicious.

I left my room, grabbed a piece of toast off the table, and made my way for the elevator without saying a word to anyone who sat at the table.

The elevator stopped on floor three and both tributes entered. They both glanced me over then turned away from me. I realized I didn't even know their names. There were twenty-four of us entering the arena. Twenty-four teenagers with names and lives and stories of their own. Soon we'd be killing each other, and we didn't even know each other's names.

When we got off the elevator there were still thirty minutes until we could start training, but a lot of tributes came early to talk to their alliance members. I scanned the Training Center and spotted Nema off in a corner observing everyone. I crossed the center and nodded a hello to her. She noticed but didn't respond at first, she had her gaze set on a group of four tributes, one of them included Lumen from District Five.

"I talked to the Five girl yesterday," I spoke up.

"She's young," Nema said, still watching the group, "Why is she here?"

"She started a bad fire in her district."

"Did it get anyone killed?" Nema asked, finally looking at me.

I shrugged, "She didn't say. But she's nervous, I don't think she believes she can win."

Nema scoffed, "She won't win. She's too young. I never saw her as a threat. Who else did you talk too?"

I told Nema a little about the girl from Eleven, but admitted I couldn't get much from her. I explained that the girl from Eight was a nervous wreck; but that she was also decent with knives and that her District partner was a troublemaker. Nema found that interesting and scanned the Training Center for him, when her eyes fell on him she studied him for a long moment before looking back at me.

"That's good, I like to know who the trouble makers are," Nema said. I'm glad she wasn't looking at me because I grinned, after all _I_ was causing a lot of trouble lately, but Nema didn't need to know that.

"What can you tell me about the Careers?" I asked.

Nema smirked, "Nothing."

"What?" I was confused.

"I'm not giving you any advantages."

I clinched my fist, "You said if I talked -"

"I said a lot, Six. That doesn't mean any of it was true, but thanks for the information." Nema pushed off the wall and started to walk away. I stepped forward quickly and grabbed her arm, turning her back around to look at me. I wasn't letting her get away that easy.

"Give me something I can use," I said through clinched teeth, trying to keep my anger down.

Nema pulled her arm out of my grip. "I couldn't get the thirteen year old to talk to me, I couldn't get any of them too because I was a Career, and yet you did. It turns out District Six made a poor choice. You claim to be 'the best', well guess what Six, you aren't the best. You trusted someone to keep their work and you shouldn't have. That's your first mistake." Nema turned and walked away.

What had just happened? My head was buzzing. I was mad at Nema, but I was mad at myself for trusting her.

She used me.

I realized she was headed for the weapons station, it wasn't opened yet but a crowd was starting to form around it. I had to catch her before she reached them.

I sprinted across the center and grabbed her arm again. This time she turned around quickly and swung at me. She missed by an inch, but she was much faster than me and kicked my feet out from under me. My stomach dropped and I landed hard on my back.

I let out a muffled cough but pushed myself back up again, anger fueling me.

"Cas, stop!" Someone shouted behind me. My fist was taken in someone's hand and I was being pulled away from Nema.

I pushed myself away, and realized quickly it was Axl. In front of us a Trainer had Nema under control.

"I hate her," I snarled.

"You can't fight here," Axl said to me just as a Trainer walked over to us.

"Lucky your friend here stopped you," The Trainer said, "If you had gotten the punch in you wouldn't be allowed to train today."

"It'd have been worth it," I snapped. I wasted time yesterday talking to Lumen, I wasted time and energy trying to figure out what I could tell Nema. There was more important things I could have been doing with that time.

"Don't let me see you raise a fist in this Center toward another tribute again, you understand?" The Trainer asked sternly.

"Yeah, got it," I snapped, still glaring at Nema.

The Trainer left us and a bell chimed, letting everyone know they could start training.

"What was that?" Axl asked, half smiling.

"She promised to tell me about the Careers if I found out some stuff about the other tributes."

"And she didn't hold up her end of the deal?" Axl asked. I shook my head. "What a bitch," Axl scoffed. "I was going to work on swords today, I'll see you this evening."

"See ya," I said half heartily, barley noticing Axl leave. I watched as a Trainer walked Nema out of the Training Center. They stopped her in the door and ran what I could only assume was a metal detector over her. I frowned. They must have been looking for knives or other weapons.

* * *

Before going into the Cafeteria a metal detector was ran over us all one by one. It didn't take long, but it made some of the tributes nervous. I kept my cool, I didn't have anything on me the metal detector would be able to find. The doors to the Training Center were closed once we were all inside the Cafeteria so they could set it up for our Private Sessions.

I sat alone and ate, I observed everyone. I observed the groups and alliances. Axl was sitting and chatting with a small group. They didn't look like they were capable of doing much, and I felt bad for assuming most of them would be dead by the bloodbath.

Once we all finish eating lunch we are moved to a different room so the Gamemakers can start the Private Sessions. This room is lined with benches. We are informed to sit in District Order, girls first. Nema is escorted into the room while everyone finding their seat. I sat down between the boy from Five and Axl. Sitting like this we all finally had a good view of each other for the first time since arriving at the Capitol. Heads turned and looked up and down the benches and around the room. For the most part no one talked, only the Careers would whisper something to each other every couple minutes.

We were left staring at each other for ten minutes, and finally an automated voice filled the room. _"DISTRICT ONE."_ The girl from One stood and walked confidently through the large door into the Training Center.

The sessions seemed to last forever. I sat with my legs crossed on the bench. I picked and fiddled with my shoes. I pulled at the shoe laces and scratched at the rubber soles. I was never one to have nervous ticks, but this was an exception. The District Five male was called in and I knew I'd be next. Axl actually gave me a reassuring nod despite us fighting the past couple days.

"DISTRICT SIX." The automated voice sounded. I stood up and made my way through the doors. Head Gamemaker Quinton was sitting on a couch chatting with two women. I frowned. Lincoln said District six is when the Gamemakers start to lose interest. We're halfway through the private sessions and honestly we never have much to show them. I had to change that.

"Castilla Shan, District 6," I said loudly, my voice carrying through the entire training center. Quinton stopped talking to the woman, who were practically hanging off him and drooling. He wasn't even that good looking, money or not he was a sleazy man and didn't deserve the attention those women were giving him. "What do you have to show us, Castilla Shan?" Quinton asked, sounding very bored.

I had been practicing what I was going to say. "My skills are a bit hard to show you with what you've provided me here; so I borrowed a couple things from the training center today." I pulled two packs of matches out of my pocket and a small sharpened stick out of my shoe.

Quinton's brow narrowed and he stood up quickly to get a better view. I was a bit proud to admit he looked as if I had confused him. He was trying to figure out what I had just shown him.

"There's also some items from the Training Center hidden in my room," I continued, "some peacekeepers searched the entire suite last night but I'm a bit smarter than them and was able to keep the stuff hidden. I can tell you where each item is, if you'd like, so you know I'm not lying. I also took these items out today." I held up the matches and sharp stick just to make sure Quinton and the other Gamemakers got a good view of them.

"I'm a thief," I said boldly, continuing my speech before Quinton could interrupt me. "I can literally steal something out from someone's nose without them knowing, I just did today." I raise the items in my hand again, just to further prove my point. "And all the items still hidden in my room upstairs shows that I'm capable of keeping things hidden."

Quinton tapped a finger on the balcony railing, he was clearly trying to decide if he wanted to say something to me or let me go without a word. I finally decided he wasn't going to say anything, so I walked forward and placed the matches and stick on a table.

"Where?" Quinton finally asked. I looked up at him. "Where are all those items you claim to have stolen yesterday hidden?" I could tell he was skeptical.

"The knife is in the pocket of my jeans from home. The water purifier is actually just in my pillow..." I threw on a cocky smile. "And the binoculars are under the dresser. As for the matches they're probably in the garbage, I chucked them in my District Partners face last night."

Quinton's face changed, he knew I wasn't lying. We were never told everything that had been taken from the Training Center yesterday, and because I just named them all I had to be telling the truth.

"And on top of being a good thief I can do this." I moved quickly to the knives, picked one up, and threw it at a target. It hit with a solid thud, piercing perfectly into the second inner rung. One away from a perfect throw. I wanted to throw another and try to perfect my throw, but I couldn't risk doing worse the second time. So instead I exited the room without being asked to do so. I didn't say or do anything else. It was risky, my time wasn't finished and I was risking a lot not taking that time to throw more knives.

* * *

I had to wait for Axl to finish his private session, and when he was done we were both escorted up to the 6th floor. Lincoln, Mirka, and the stylist all stood in the landing.

"What's going on?" Axl asked.

"The suite is being searched again!" Mirka cried over dramatically. "Never have I had to go through this in my entire life!"

I grinned. Quinton sent someone up to my room to see if I was telling the truth. Good. They'd find the items exactly where I told them they'd be. Axl and Lincoln both looked at me, knowing I had something to do with this.

"I told Quinton I stole the knife, along with some other things."

"Why?" Lincoln asked.

"I had to show him I'm good at something," I shrugged.

A Peacekeeper excited the suite, all three items in hand. Axl grinned, clearly impressed. Lincoln looked torn. The Peacekeeper didn't say anything, just entered the elevator as it was passing by and left.

"Axl messed up my original plan, which was letting Quinton know I put everything up in the light. So I improvised and scattered the stuff around my room. This may have actually been a bit better."

"Do you know what Quinton could do to you for stealing from the Training Center?" Lincoln asked.

"What? Try and kill me?" I scoffed. "Isn't that the point of the games?"

"He controls the games!" Lincoln stressed. "He can make things ten times harder on you in the arena for pulling one over on him."

"Or maybe she'll impress him enough she'll get a kick-ass score," Axl said. "Good one, Cas."

Lincoln shot Axl a warning look to stay quite then turned his attention back to me. "You better hope this goes how you planned, Cas. I understand you were trying to prove, but you should have talked to me about it first."

"It's my score, not yours," I found myself saying, "I wanted to show Quinton what I was capable of on my own. You're my mentor but you aren't going into the arena for me. I have to do it on my own, meaning I had to do this on my own."

"Let's just hope it was worth it," Lincoln told me.

* * *

That evening Lincoln, Axl, Mirka, and I gathered in the sitting room to watch the reveal of the training scores. Lincoln and Axl were both nervous, but I felt good about what I did. The screen came to life, showing two Capitol Males and a large panel beside them.

The orange hair male, who's name I couldn't remember, speaks first. "Welcome, welcome! We're here tonight for a very exciting event! Juno and I are going to be reveling all the training scores from our Twenty-Four tributes! So get your money ready, betting is about to be in full swing! Juno, why don't you start with District One!"

Juno, who's hair was a mix of red and blue, grinned wide for the Camera, "Thank you, Sprint! For those of you who don't know, District One if my favorite District. In fact I'm wearing a wonderful perfume that came from District One right now."

Sprint chuckled, "Now, now Juno, everyone's excited to hear the scores. We can talk about your perfume after the scores."

"Right!" Juno chuckled and picked up a note card, flipping it open to read what it said inside. An image of Porcelain Gowan appeared in the panel beside Juno and Sprint. "Porcelain Gowan, District One, received a very impressive score of Eleven! My my! What an exciting why to start the show!"

My stomach dropped. Twelve is the highest a tribute could receive, but getting higher than a ten has only happened three times in twenty five years. And one of those was Porcelain's brother. Porcelain suddenly scared me more than she had before.

Juno continued, a picture of the District One male filling the spot Porcelain had been. "Dalton Justice, a score of nine!" I hadn't expected anything less from District One. Over the past few years the Careers have been making eights, nines, or tens. Dalton was a very average Career, making him dangerous.

Sprint picked up his card to continue reading the scores, Kimber's face filled the panel, her black hair still swept in front of her eyes giving her a fierce and edgy look. "Kimber Graves, District Two, earned a score of ten. Her District Partner, Saxon Greystone, also earned a score of ten. We have two very promising tributes from District Two." Sprint said enthusiastically.

"Of course we do," I grumbled, earning a questioning look from Lincoln. "Why do they act so surprised every year?" I asked, "No one is surprised by the Careers scores anymore."

"It's all just a show, Cas. Something to hype of the Capitol, you should have figured that out by now," Lincoln told me.

"Now, now," Mirka tisked, "It's very exciting! Look you missed District Three."

I had but I didn't care, I cared about my score and my score alone. Nema scored an eight and her district partner scored a nine. Lumen didn't fair as well, only scoring a five. Poor kid, some birthday present.

Sprint looked down at his note card again and my face filled the panel. "District Six, Castilla Shan, earned a score of eight!"

Eight. _Eight!_ I received an eight! That was an average Career Score!

Lincoln looked a million times more relaxed than he had at the start of the show and Mirka clapped excitedly.

"Good job," Axl said to me. I nodded toward the TV, letting him know his picture had appeared on the screen.

"Axl Wallace has a score of seven," Sprint read off the card.

"Seven?" Axl sounded surprised. He received the same score Lincoln had during his games. Seven was an impressive score for District Six, considering we had been making solid fives for a few years.

"How exciting!" Mirka's voice was even more shrill than normal, "A seven and an eight!"

"Thank you," Lincoln said to both me and Axl. "I needed to know you both have a chance."

"The scores!" Mirka suddenly said, oblivious to the fact that Lincoln had been saying something important. Mirka pointed at the TV. "We've missed District Seven."

I didn't notice any of the following scores. I was too focused on my own. I revived a Career's Training Score. That meant two very good things. First: The other tributes would be scared of me, I was a dangerous as the Careers, I had something I was good at and they didn't know what. Sure, being a thief wasn't much of a threat to them, but they didn't know what I had shown the Gamemakers. Second: I had guaranteed sponsors.

* * *

 **AN: The interviews are next, then another chapter with some backstory, then the bloodbath!**

 **If you like SYOT stories you should submit a tribute to _Forced Connection: The 100th Hunger Games_ by jul312. jul312 wrote an amazing Hunger Games story ****_A Victor's Ally - The 99th Hunger Games_ that you should read as well.**


	15. Interview

**AN: Thank you for the reviews :)**

 **This is just a short chapter with Cas's interview! Two chapters away from the bloodbath!**

* * *

I sat on a stool while Hawk styled my hair and two members of his prep team filed and painted my toes and finger nails. I felt sick. In an hour I'd be talking on a stage in front of all of Panem. There'd be a live audience of insanely dressed and overly colorful Capitolites, and there'd be cameras capturing me from every angle possible and broadcasting it for all of the Districts to see.

I had no idea how to make people like me, and that was the entire point of these stupid interviews.

"Castilla dear, keep your chin up," Hawk said as he tugged on a bit of my hair. I tilted my chin back up and sighed. "Are you nervous?" Hawk asked.

"I just don't know what to say," I admitted.

"Just be yourself," Hawk told me.

I was worried that wouldn't work for me.

* * *

Thirty minutes later I had one light makeup, and my short hair was in soft, loose curls. I ran my fingers through it, never knowing my hair could be that soft.

"Do you like it?" Hawk asked from behind me.

"It's different," I said, "but yes, I do."

"I hope you like your dress," Hawk lead me into a small dressing room. He unzipped a black bag to revel a long blue dress. At first it looked very plain and average compared to the dresses I was used to seeing tributes wear on screen. It wasn't until Hawk pulled it out of the black bag that I noticed the large narrow rectangle cut out the front of the dress with crossed strings keeping the two sides together. The sleeves were long, the ends flared out and just above the elbows the flares were held on the the same style of crossed strings.

Hawk handed me the dress then took my shoes out of the box, he turned, pleased with himself that he had found something other than heels for me to wear. The shoes were white flats, and the tops of them both had the same crossed pattern as the dress.

"Thank you," I said, taking the flats from Hawk. Hawk left me alone so I could change into the dress. Once I had it on I looked at myself in the mirror. The dress covered my entire back, saving the prep team from having to cover my scars with makeup. The front rectangle cut down between my breast, but somehow it didn't feel that revealing, nothing like the tire dress I had to wear during the parade. I slipped the flats on then stepped out of the dressing room so Hawk could see me.

"It's perfect!" He clapped his hands together.

Mirka popped into the room just then, she was looking flustered. "Oh good, you're dressed! Axl isn't ready yet and it's time for everyone to line up. Come on, come on." Mirka ushered me out of the room. I followed her down the hall where Lincoln greeted me and wished me luck. He reminded me to stay secretive, strong, and to be myself. Again I wasn't sure if that would work.

Mirka returns with a scowling Axl. He was dressed in a dark purple tuxedo and his hair was gelled back out so it was out of his face. He looked miserable as he took his place behind me in line. It didn't take long for the interviews to start, I could hear the cheering crowd as the interview host, Atticus, introduced the first tribute. The knot in my stomach got tighter every time we took another step forward. I should have been focusing on the interviews, seeing how the other tributes presented themselves, but I couldn't. Lincoln would be mad when he finds out I didn't.

Soon I was at the front of the line, and from where I stood I could see a glimpse of the stage. Bright lights lit the whole stage and a large screen flashed odd colors and designs, every now and then a large number 25 would fill the screen.

The male from District Five walked back behind stage, and I realized at that moment Atticus was calling me onto the stage.

I stepped out into the bright lights, and forced myself to look anywhere but at the audience or the cameras. I stayed focused on Atticus. It felt odd, knowing everyone was watching me because they wanted to know more about me. I never got positive attention in District Six, never did anyone cheer for me or want to know my story. Now the roars and claps were deafening and Atticus was waiting to ask me about my life and who I was. It was too strange.

Atticus shook my hand then I took a seat. He didn't even waste second, and launched right into the interview.

"My my, Castilla Shan, you are quite a surprising young woman."

"I am?" I can't help but ask.

Atticus chuckles, "Yes! In twenty-five years District Six has never scored an eight, it's very impressive." He turns quickly to the audience. "Isn't that impressive?!" Everyone in the crowd claps and cheers.

I forced another small smile. "I wasn't sure if I could pull it off," I said. I realized it wasn't the strongest of answers. I needed to show I had confidence in myself. Lincoln wanted me to act like I had a secret, something I was extremely good at that no one would be able to see coming. So I quickly spoke before Atticus could ask another question. "I think I showed the Gamemakers something they've never seen before." It was a truthful answer, I wasn't sure how I got an eight, it had to be that.

"My my, something never seen before? Now that's exciting!" Atticus said while the audience _ooohhhed._ Atticus continued on with the interview, jumping to a new topic.

"I know we've all been sitting on the edge of our seats for days ready to hear why you dared shove your District Partner on the parade chariot. Could you share that story with us? People, including myself, are wondering if there's a bad history between you two?"

Somehow the answer just came to me, "No nothing like that. I just don't like surprises and he surprised me. That's all it was."

Atticus chuckled, "Looking back at your reaping you handled that surprise very well."

"It wasn't a surprise," I answered honestly. _Ooohhs_ and _aaahhhs_ echoed through the audience and an excited chatter started to build.

"So you're saying you knew you name was going to be picked out of the bowl?"

"I had a very high suspicion it would be, yes."

"Can you share why that is?" Atticus pushed.

"With the twist this year I knew everyone thought I'd be the best pick as tribute. I can say with full confidence that the vote was probably very close to being unanimous. District Six sees something in me they don't see in other girls my age, something that makes me right for the games."

There were loud cheers and clapping, the audience clearly very excited and pleased with my answer.

Atticus nodded with approval. "As I said before, Castilla, you are a very surprising young woman."

"I have a few more surprises up my sleeve." I don't know what made me say it, but I'm glad I did. The audience cheered again and Atticus looked thrilled.

"I'm sure you do!" Atticus turned back to the audience. "Aren't you excited to see what else this girl can do?"

The buzzer for the end of my interview sounded through the cheers of the audience. Atticus grinned and shook my hand again before sending me offstage. I was led quickly into a backroom where the previous tributes stood with their mentors, escorts, and stylist. It took me a moment to spot Lincoln, but he looked extremely happy. He waved me over to the TV he, Mirka, and the stylist were gathered around.

"You did great!" Lincoln said. I hadn't seen him so happy the entire time I've been at the Capitol. I realized he probably thought I was going to royally screw up my interview. Apparently I did really good.

Hawk patted the seat beside him and I sat to watch Axl's interview. I couldn't tell based on Lincoln's expressions if Axl was taking his advice or not. If Lincoln told him to act like he didn't care about anything, then he did a great job with his interview. When he came off the stage he looked relieved, and practically ripped off the tuxedo's jacket.

Lincoln patted him on the shoulder while his stylist rushed to save the jacket from falling on the floor where Axl was dropping it.

Axl found a seat and we watched the rest of the interviews in silence.


	16. The Night Before

That evening after interviews everything felt awkward. Over dinner no one really wanted to bring up the fact that Axl and I would be sent off to die tomorrow, but the topic was absolutely unavoidable.

Lincoln started going over everything he could think of while I poked at the ham on my plate with a fork. "Just make sure you always have water on you, if you're down to your last couple drops, save them for as long as you can, only drink them when you absolutely have too. If you're being attacked by another tribute, just kill them, don't think about sparing them and letting someone else kill them. I know that's awful to say, but you can't risk running back into them later in the arena. I'm working on sponsors and I've already got my eye on a couple for each of you. I don't suppose District Six will be scrounging up money to send you anything, so I'm going to jump at whatever I can get from the Capitol. I'll try to send the essentials. Food, clothes, water, medicine."

"What about my allies' gifts?" Axl asked. I looked up. Allies? Axl was going into the games with allies?

"Don't force them to give you anything they receive as gifts, it'll only make them mad at you. But don't give them anything I send you either," Lincoln demanded. "Playing with allies is tricky, but it can be useful. Just know when to split from them. If tensions start running high, get out."

Axl nodded.

Lincoln checked the clock. "It's late, you two need your rest for tomorrow. You don't know when you'll be sleeping again. I have a couple people I need to go talk too, when I come back I want both of you in your rooms asleep."

Lincoln was sure being demanding, but Axl and I both listened. I quickly finished up the ham then went to my room to shower. I dressed into my pajamas and wrapped a towel around my hair before going to look out the window. The Capitol was throwing yet another party. Down below in the Square I could see the ranking board. Had I moved up the board? Had I moved down? Were people still betting on me to win? Lincoln had said he thought he had a couple sponsors already lined up. He was probably off talking to them now.

I quickly towel dried my hair and laid down in my bed. It was late, but I wasn't feeling tired. I was anxious, nervous, and scared; but also determined. I reached over to the bedside table and picked up one of the playing cards. I ran my finger around the edge, thinking about home. What was Mom thinking right now? What was Grandpa thinking. I was positive Ulric was a nervous wreck, unable to get to sleep and silently crying in our room.

I wanted to get home to him so badly. I wanted to see my brother again. I would.

I clutched the playing card tightly in my hand, destroying it's perfect shape. I couldn't get emotional. Not now.

I tossed the crumpled card aside and rolled over, determined to fall asleep. I focused on my breathing and tuned out the noise of the party below. It wasn't until familiar music started to fill my upcoming dream that I realized the music wasn't coming from the party.

I opened my eyes and sat up in bed, listening hard. The music was in our suite. It had to be Lincoln, it was the same music he had been listening too on the train.

An awful thought crossed my mind and my heart started beating faster from worry. I shot out of bed and ran to Lincoln's room. I didn't even bother knocking, I pushed the door open, letting myself into the dimly lit room. Lincoln sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at his shoes and holding his head. It didn't take me long to spot the white paper medical bag sitting not far from his feet.

I jumped for it, grabbing it off the ground the same time Lincoln reached for it. He fought back for a moment, tugging at the bag.

"Don't!" I shouted at him. "Lincoln we need you sober through this!"

He released the bag just as Axl appeared in the door. His eyes darted between me, Lincoln, and the bag I held. He pieced it together quickly.

"Please tell me you didn't take any," Axl said.

"Not yet," Lincoln huffed, "it's not a lot." He said it like it was suppose to reassure us.

"This is what you went out to do? This is who you went to talk to?" Axl snapped. "You're suppose to be our mentor! You're suppose to help us survive. How the hell are you supposed to do that when you're taking morphling. No one will want to talk to you!"

Lincoln looked like he could break in two. He collapsed back onto his bed. "I can't stop seeing it," he said, "the Bloodbath, the Games. I just need something to help me forget."

"Not while you're keeping us alive," I said sternly, "you have to face it. For us."

"I keep seeing Dana being stabbed right in front of me," Lincoln said weakly.

Dana was the female tribute from District Six during Lincoln's Games. She was stabbed by a tribute during the bloodbath; Lincoln saw it happen. He was only five feet away, forced to watch the fourteen year old girl he entered the games with be murdered.

I tossed the white bag to Axl then sat down beside Lincoln and made him look me in the eyes. "You can't make it go away," I said sternly, "I can't pretend to know what you're feeling, but I do know the morphling can't make it go away for good."

"You'll know what I'm feeling tomorrow," Lincoln said. A chill ran down my spine. The thought of living like Lincoln was being forced to live terrified me. I didn't want to know what he was feeling. I didn't want to have the same nightmares he had.

I glanced over to Axl, he looked relatively calm and unfazed by Lincoln's comment.

I turned back to Lincoln, "I promised you I'd try my hardest, right? Now I need you to try your hardest. I'll need your help. Sponsors won't do me any good if they refuse to hand their money over to you because you're high."

"Just stay sober until we're both fucking dead," Axl said from the door.

I shot Axl a glare and Lincoln spoke up, "I don't want to watch more of my tributes die." Unfortunately for Lincoln, the past five years District Six tributes never made it past halfway in the games. He would have mentored them all just to watch them all die. It was eight tributes I knew he felt he couldn't keep alive.

"Lincoln, I'm coming home. You don't have to watch me die."

* * *

I closed Lincoln's door quietly behind me. Axl was leaned against a wall waiting for me.

"He's a complete wreck," Axl said.

"Let's just pray he holds it together for a bit longer."

Axl scoffed, "I guarantee he'll be jamming a needle in his arm the moment that clock hits zero." Axl tossed the white bag to me. "It's the liquid stuff, it'll knock him out right away; nothing like the pills that hype you up for a bit."

I looked down in the bag to see Axl was right.

"Shit," I said. Morphling pills took longer to absorb into your system, making you high and happy before you finally crashed. The liquid entered your veins directly, and if you injected too much of it into your system it knocked you out quickly. If Lincoln were to take this morphling at any point over the next couple weeks, he wouldn't even be able to get out of bed to talk to Sponsors. "I'll get rid of it. We'll ask Mirka to keep a close eye on him," I said.

Axl shook his head, clearly not believing for a moment Mirka would stop Lincoln from taking the Morphling. But we had to try something.

"I'm going back to my room," I said. Axl nodded and I turned to leave. I only got a few steps away before he called to me. I turned to find him with his hands shoved in his pockets. He seemed to be stumbling over what to say. He finally settled on;

"Seeing as we could possibly die tomorrow, I just wanted to let you know that... that I've been trying to be a better person. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't notice." There was a long pause of silence, and I wasn't sure if I should say anything. Axl continued after a moment, "So yeah, I just don't want to die knowing I didn't ... well, I..." silence again.

I wasn't positive what Axl was trying to say, he was clearly unsure how to say it. But I nodded and took a couple steps closer to him.

"I noticed," I said, "you've been different and it's been..." Now I didn't know how to say it. "It's been good. Being here with you, I mean. I didn't think it would be; but having someone I know here was..." Again, silence. We both clearly had communication issues. I wanted to say it was comforting, or nice, or maybe even helpful. I wasn't sure. But it seemed Axl understood through the silence.

We both pulled each other in for a hug, and it was so different from all the other hugs we shared in the past. We both had our arms wrapped tight around each other, Axl twisted my shirt up in his fist and I had my face buried in his chest. I silently cursed myself for being on the verge of tears because I wasn't suppose to care. I wasn't supposed to care what happened Axl, I told myself that a long time ago. But we both were saying goodbye, knowing it would be the last hug we'd share, and I was sad for him.

I pulled away first, afraid if I didn't I would actually start crying. I turned from Axl without saying anything and rushed to my room. I sat down on my bed and had to calm myself down, I was getting too worked up. Once I felt I had successfully swallowed back the tears I took the paper bag into the bathroom and dumped the morphling into the toilet. For good measure I broke the syringe and threw it away.

As I watched the morphling being flushed down the toilet I couldn't help but think about the first time Viktor and Irisa took the drug.

 _I was thirteen, and I hadn't been hanging out with Axl, Viktor, and Irisa for even two months. I was officially the youngest in the group because it was Irisa's fourteenth birthday. She and Viktor went out to find her a birthday present while Axl and I sat in his apartment sorting through random appliance parts we had stolen._

 _"Guess what we just got!" Viktor proclaimed as he burst through the door grinning from ear to ear. Viktor was almost fifteen, the oldest in our group of friends but by no means the ring leader. That had been Axl._

 _"Booze?" Axl asked excitedly._

 _"Better!" Irisa smirked, "show 'em."_

 _Viktor pulled a small brown bottle out of his pocket and shook it, letting us hear the liquid inside. "Morphling!"_

 _"Oh hell!" Axl half stood, eye the bottle cautiously. "No one's looking for that right? No one's about to follow you into this room and kill us all?"_

 _"No, man. We bought it. No stealing, no risk," Viktor said._

 _Axl gritted his teeth, "How much did that set you back?"_

 _"Not much," Irisa shrugged, sitting down on the couch beside me._

 _"Don't lie," Axl demanded. "That shit's expensive. My dad blows all our money for just the pills."_

 _Viktor sat down at the table and pulled a needle out of his pocket, shaking his head. "Relax, Axl. It's my money I can spend it how I want." Viktor filled the syringe and I watched nervously. He pushed the needle into his arm, then clearly a bit more scared then he wanted to let on, he only pushed the syringe down halfway before pulling the needle back out of his arm._

 _Axl, Irisa, and I watched him carefully. It didn't seem to be taking effect right away and he passed the syringe to Irisa. She quickly stuck the needle in her arm and pushed the syringe down the rest of the way._

 _"Your turn," Viktor said, standing and wobbling a bit in his spot. He filled the syringe back up and approached me on the couch._

 _"Don't," I said as he tried to pass the needle to me._

 _"Oh come on!" Viktor said playfully as he stumbled toward me, using the arm of the couch for support. "It'll take some edge off the reaping in a week."_

 _"I don't want it," I said calmly as I scooted across the couch away from Viktor._

 _"What, does it scare you?" Viktor asked, swiping the needle dangerously close to me. I made to push him away with my foot, hoping my boot would protect me from being impelled by the needle._

 _Axl stepped forward and pulled Viktor away from me, a very daring move as Viktor seemed to have no control over his arms and swung the needle aimlessly around. "Stop it, we don't want that crap." Axl shoved Viktor toward a chair and he fell into it laughing,_ _suddenly looking very drained._

 _Axl sat down beside me and pulled me in close to him for protection._

 _"Thanks," I whispered to him before glancing over to Irisa, who was staring wide-eyed at something I couldn't see. "They're idiots," I said._

 _"This won't be good," Axl sighed._

Axl had been right, Viktor and Irisa started spending any money they could find on morphling. They didn't care what form it came in, pills or liquid, they just wanted it. And they didn't have anything they needed to forget about life; not like Lincoln did.

I sighed and went back to my bed, trying hard to push everything out of my mind and go to sleep. Tomorrow was the Bloodbath and I needed to sleep.

* * *

 **AN: Bloodbath is next! I hate to say it but I'm not going to be home for two weeks so I may not be able to update until I'm back, sorry to leave you at such an anticipated place. I'll try to update while I'm away, or at least get the bloodbath up!**

 **Thanks again for reading and reviewing!**


	17. The Bloodbath

The morning of the Bloodbath I was woken up by Hawk. He allowed me to neatly fold up the book page Grandpa had given me and put it in my pocket before he whisked me away from the suite so quickly I barley had time to eat a piece of toast. I couldn't help but think it would have been nice to have such a large breakfast my stomach would feel like its about to explode. Then I wouldn't be hungry for at least a couple days.

Hawk took me to change into the Arena outfit. Normally it's something athletic, or something geared toward the weather in the arena; such as pants, a comfortable shirt, a jacket, and running shoes or boots. This year, I assumed because of the Quell, it was different, and Hawk handed me my Arena outfit with an apologetic smile. I frowned down at the tan shirt, it looked half finished, and it'd clearly offered no protection from the elements. I wanted to grumble and complain, but I knew Hawk had no say in the Arena outfit, so there was no point in complaining to him.

I change quickly into the new clothes, double checking that I still had Grandpa's book page with me.

The tan shirt had straps that were about two inches thick, and it left my entire stomach exposed. The Arena outfit also included brown shorts, they at least fell to my knees. They were a bit baggy, and had several pockets on them, two if them large enough to hold canteens or other important large items. The sandals provided were made of a tough rope, and I started to wonder if the arena was going to be dry and hot this year considering I wasn't given much clothing.

"Ready to go?" Hawk asked. I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach and suddenly happy I hadn't stuffed myself with a large breakfast. It'd probably be on the floor right about now. I followed Hawk and within a minute we were in a large room, a hovercraft sat in the center of the room and other tributes stood in line waiting to board the hovercraft. I looked around the room and saw escorts, previous victors of the Hunger Games, and stylist, talking quietly with their tributes. Axl wasn't anywhere in the room, and neither was Lincoln.

"Where's Lincoln?" I asked Hawk as he lead me to my spot in line.

"He said you'd ask about him. He'll be there before you enter the arena to say goodbye. Don't worry."

The room filled quickly. Axl finally took his spot behind me, wearing the same sandals and shorts as me but his top at least covered his stomach. Unlike all the female tributes who were wearing a half finished, tight fitting tops, the males were given full length tops that didn't hug them so tight they couldn't breath.

We are lead onto the hovercraft and buckled into seats, forced to look at each other. As the hovercraft rose into the sky to take us to the arena an extremely tall and skinny lady started to inject trackers into our arms. I resist the urge to slap her away, knowing I'll somehow be punished in the arena if I attack one of these people.

It didn't take long for the hovercraft to land and for all of us to be separated again. Hawk lead me to my departure room, where a large glass tube sat in the corner.

"Where's Lincoln?" I couldn't help but ask.

"He'll be here any minute now," Hawk assured me. I nodded and leaned against the wall, I was starting to feel nervous, extremely nervous. Everything felt fuzzy and I realized my hands were shaking. I closed my eyes and tried to think of home; of Ulric and Grandpa and even Mom. It wasn't until someone said my name a couple minutes later I opened my eyes. Lincoln stood in the doorway, and besides looking as afraid as I suddenly felt, he looked sober.

"You're coming back, right?" Lincoln asked me. I nodded. "Good," he said.

"It's time," Hawk interrupted, nodding toward the clock on the wall. I turned and looked at the glass tube, wondering just how bad things were about to get. I hesitated, maybe something would happen? Maybe, where ever they were with their control panels and cameras they'd loose power, postponing the Games for another couple days. But a voice started to count down, warning me I only had thirty seconds to enter to glass tube in front of me.

"You can do this, Cas," Lincoln said somewhere behind me. I stepped into the tube and the moment I was inside it closed me in. I turned to see Hawk and Lincoln watching me. At five seconds there was a small jolt in the tube, warning me it was about to rise up into the arena.

The tube rose up slowly, and I realized my hands were shaking again. As I was greeted by warm air I was blinded by the sun, but only for a moment. It wasn't that the sun was in my eyes, but it was reflecting off the yellow sand all around me.

Fifteen feet in front of me was a large pyramid structure. The pyramid was made of large limestone blocks and the cornucopia was a half crumbled building sitting on the flattened top. I couldn't even see all the way around the pyramid. Instead of standing in a circle like all the previous Hunger Games had been, I was the standing in a line of six. I was the second in the line, only one person, the District Nine male, stood to my left. On my other side was the District Four male, followed by District Twelve female.

After her I stopped caring. It didn't really matter who was where. I could only assume each side of the pyramid had six tributes standing in a line, and just like this side each levels up the pyramid was scattered with weapons and backpacks. It'd be a climb, the first backpack was three blocks up, and the Cornucopia was all the way at the top, I counted ten blocks, and each block was at least two feet tall, so a twenty foot climb to the top.

The countdown had already started, it was on forty but I was still trying to figure out how to get to a backpack and weapons. It seemed, that all the way down the pyramid, each tribute had something directly in front of them, yet my path up the pyramid was clear, and if I were to climb straight up nothing would be in my reach. That meant I had to cross over into someone else's path and take their backpacks or weapons.

I couldn't help but think the Gamemakers had done this on purpose. I had shown them I was a thief, and now I had to prove it. They weren't going to give me anything that easily, I'd have to take everything from others.

My best bet was to cross over into Nine's path. He was much smaller and less intimidating than Four. The backpack was three blocks up, and if I moved father than him I could grab it then climb back down and run away.

 _Twenty._

My heart skipped a beat. Twenty seconds. That's all I had left of safety.

 _Fifteen._

My eyes scanned father up the pyramid, and I realized two small throwing knives were ten feet up.

 _Ten._

I told myself it was too risky, but I'd need weapons.

 _Five, four, three, two, one._

I stepped off into the hot yellow sand and ran toward the pyramid. I reached the first block and took the large two foot step up. Somewhere a girl screamed, but the blood was roaring through my ears and I barley heard it. I moved toward the backpack, it was only four feet higher than me but I needed to get closer to it to reach it.

Nine approached me, and within seconds he was trying to push me back onto the sand only a couple feet below us. Someone else screamed, this time I think it was a boy. I didn't have time to be in a stupid tussle with the boy from Nine. I shoved him as hard as I could and he slipped off the block. I moved quickly, hoisting myself up two more blocks and grabbing the backpack. I looked across the pyramid and realized Four was almost to the Cornucopia on the top, and he had left the two knives in his path alone, heading toward bigger and better weapons.

I climbed again, moving closer to the knives as I did. The girl from Twelve started to cross my path but she stopped, her eyes wide in terror. I kept going, but I glanced at her a moment later to see she was moving again too. I wasn't sure what she was going to get, the knives or a canteen not too far away. I reached up for the knives, already sweaty from only climbing eight feet, when an arrow zipped by my arm so close and so fast I yelped and jerked my arm away.

Another arrow came half a second later, but this time it hit Twelve's arm. She yelled out and blood started to drip down her arm.

I had no cover, I was on the side of the pyramid with the Careers just above us ready to pick us all off one by one. I was too close to the knives to give up on them though, so I quickly dived forward and grabbed for them again, hugging the pyramid blocks as closely as I could. With the knives in my hand I started to cross back down toward the water canteen, scooting on my butt to stay down and hopefully out of the arrows' reach. Twelve was sitting on a block sobbing while holding her arm where the arrow still stuck out of it.

I ignored her and reached for the canteen.

"No!" Twelve screamed hysterically and suddenly remembering she needed to keep moving, she dived toward me to protect the canteen she hadn't even gotten yet. Another arrow zoomed over our heads. "No! It's mine!" She sobbed. I grabbed the canteen but she was only half a second behind, grabbing the small strap on it and attempting to yank it away with her one good arm. I pulled harder and she stumbled forward, a second later she lost her footing and slipped off the block. We were only ten feet up, but the blocks were hard and had rough edges. Twelve fell down three blocks, blood covering them all. She caught herself for a moment, and I saw the blood tricking down the side of her face, but then she went down the last two blocks; landing in the sand in a heap.

I moved down the blocks as quickly as I dared. I had to stay low so not to get hit by an arrow. Halfway down I heard a boy scream so close it startled me. Nine was laying on the ground and a spear stuck out of his stomach. He yelled out in pain, but blood started to fill his mouth and he started to choke on it. He yelled out again but couched on the blood, and moments later he was dead.

My heart pounded and I jumped off down the remaining four feet, landing close to Twelve who was laying in a small pool of blood. I didn't stop to see if she was alive though, because the moment my feet hit the sand I started to run away from the pyramid. As I ran and realized there was a sharp pain in my ankle every few steps, but I ignored it and continued on.

A circle of crumbled buildings surrounded the pyramid. None of them would offer any sort of shelter, the tallest standing wall was only about six feet tall, but the rubble made it made it so I had to keep side stepping around cracked stone, old bricks, and rotting wood.

As I ran through the crumbled buildings I through I was past the bloodshed, but I turned a corner and found a boy laying dead, his forehead caved in and his face covered with so much blood he was unrecognizable. A bloody brick laid only a couple feet from him. Whoever this was died a painful death, and someone who was still alive in the arena did this.

I started to continue past the body before I stopped and turned back to it, my heart skipping another beat. That could be Axl. This boy was roughly the same height and weight and from what I could tell he had the same hair color. But blood and clumpy sand covered the boys face and I honestly couldn't be sure.

A cannon sounded, meaning the bloodbath was over. A second one went off and I jogged quickly away from the dead body, still ignoring the pain in my ankle. I counted the cannons as I ran, looking for a safe place to go. The arena didn't offer much this year. A patch of half dead trees looked like the best place to go. Off in the distance I was sure I saw the sun glinting off some water, but if there was a pond or lake out there it'd be were most tributes would want to go in this hot and dry arena. I wanted to avoid everyone, so I'd have to avoid the water for as long as I could without dying, because the arena was dry, with hardly anything but sand and dirt with some scattered crumbled buildings, cacti, and other scraggly bushes.

I reached the half dead trees by the eight cannon, and three more went off as I slowed my pace, my ankle finally screaming in pain.

There had been eleven deaths during the Bloodbath. It felt like a lot, but that also meant there was still thirteen tributes alive. I felt bad for wishing it had been more deaths during the bloodbath. The less tributes I had to worry about running into the better.

* * *

 **AN: I hope you liked the bloodbath! Sorry I didn't have this up sooner. I didn't touch my laptop once while away from home. I'll let you know who died in the next chapter, and I'll let you know everything Cas managed to get during the bloodbath.**

 **I hope the whole Pyramid thing makes since, plus we will see more of the arena. I wish I could draw, then I'd draw what I'm imagining and make it the story photo, sadly I'm an awful artist.**

 **Also thank you for reviewing and for the kind words! It makes me so happy to know all of you are enjoying the story so much!**


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